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humanpurposes · 6 months ago

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August

Part 3: Summer's Over

The aftermath of dinner leaves you with some doubts. The month is drawing to a close and the cracks are starting to show.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader // Modern AU

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, angst, trauma dumping

Words: 8.8k

A/n: Part 3/3!! Ignoring the fact that it is now October :)

You follow glimpses of him through the house only to lose sight of him at the old oak staircase, but you guess where he is heading.

When you reach his bedroom door it’s closed. You place the tips of your fingers on the door handle. There’s an awful feeling in your stomach, like you’re empty, like you’re missing something. Maybe this was just a cruel joke. Maybe Daeron’s a sore loser and says stuff like this all the time. Maybe it was only a cheap way to cause upset. Maybe Aemond didn’t want to deal with it.

Did he expect you to follow him from the dinner table? Is he expecting you to care?

This isn’t your problem to fix and Aemond isn’t yours to comfort. That evening on the beach, before you would have called him a friend, he said you were a good listener, but when has he asked you for advice in the days since? The lines have all become blurred. You’re not ‘just friends’, that’s clear enough, but you’re not more than that either.

“It’s just that Aemond’s usually into older women–”

If it was only teasing Aemond wouldn’t have left. He would have given something back.

“Aemond?”

At first there’s no audible reply. You hold your breath waiting for a response, even just a sigh, even if he just told you to go away.

You step back, startled as the door opens.

He’s still in his slacks and shirt from dinner, the top few buttons undone and revealing a silver chain sitting at the base of his neck. He takes a moment to look at you, then swallows thickly and steps aside to let you in.

The room is cold and smells of sea salt. A breeze blows in through a thin opening in the window, the curtains thrown open to the violet sky of dusk. The moon is out already, full, bright and beautiful.

You take a few steps before you turn to face his figure standing against the light of the hallway. Muted moonlight shines on his blinded eye and the scar that frames it. His face is passive, calm, but something about this seems so wrong.

What if he doesn’t want you here? What if he wants to be alone?

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says.

That’s it? You aren’t sure what else you were expecting from someone usually so perfectly composed. Maybe a glimpse into his mind. Maybe a suggestion of how he feels other than trying to seem unbothered. Now you’re standing in a room where you felt at ease only hours before, by the bed where he fucked you, wondering why you even bothered to follow him in the first place.

“It was all very backhanded, what Daeron said,” you say.

Aemond hums in agreement.

“I’m sure he was doing it on purpose, he just wanted to upset you after you beat him.”

You stay in silence, a dangerous game because it gives you a chance to think. There’s something you don’t know, something everyone else is in on. Aemond doesn’t know anything about your past, the people you’ve loved, the people you might have loved if things had been different, the memories that live inside of your head. Equally, you don’t know anything about him.

You can’t take this, the blanks, the empty space, the overwhelming quiet of the wind.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Aemond’s face falls. He comes into you, taking the sides of your face in his hands. Every point of contact sends a shiver through your skin, the heels of his palms by your chin, his thumbs against your cheeks, his fingertips at your neck. “No, I want you to stay.”

Maybe he thinks kissing you will make you forget everything. To an extent, it works. Once his lips are on yours it drowns out all the noise in your head and all you feel is the sensation, the delicate way he moves against your mouth, his heat, his hands trailing down your body.

He’s slow to take off your clothes, to lay you on his bed and kiss the exposed parts of your body. Once he has you how he wants you, bare and breathless and wanting, he tugs at the buttons of his shirt, eye always on you. You figure it’s only fair to admire him back, the lines of his slender and toned torso, the definition in his arms, in his neck when he tenses when his breath hitches.

There’s a dazed look in his face, parted lips, softened brow, as he positions himself between your legs. He wastes no time on preamble or teasing you. Your hands move into his hair. His tongue is firm and purposeful, moving with every jolt of your hips, every sigh and moan. Once he slips a finger inside of you it’s easy to let go, to give into the pleasure and let yourself fall apart, tugging his hair at the roots and you know that he doesn’t mind if it hurts.

He groans as he pulls away from you, straining underneath his slacks.

Helplessly, you reach for him, only managing to graze your nails over his hands as he holds your thighs open. He tilts his head at you as he stands and bares himself, taking his time with it, knowing how desperately you want to feel him near again.

It only takes a few strokes until he’s hard, then he’s leaning over you, dragging his head teasingly against your cunt. Your back arches every time he presses against your clit.

“Please,” you whisper, “Aemond, please,”

“That’s a good girl,” he says with a hum, finally pushing inside you.

You gasp at the sensation, the pleasure through the initial pain. “Need you– need you deeper,” you whine.

“So impatient,” Aemond says, “need to stretch you out first, don’t I?”

You nod and hum incoherently. Anything. Anything he gives you, you’ll take it.

He holds your wrists by your head as he starts to fuck you. He rests his head against yours, lips ghosting over your temple, his breath hot, heavy and strained with grunts and groans. More than anything you crave the sounds he makes, the way his face feels pressed against yours.

You could die when he pulls away, but he repositions himself, laying back on the bed, moving you on top of him to straddle him.

You adjust your hair and brace yourself against his chest with one palm. “I’ve never been on top before.”

“We’ll go slow,” he says as he guides you to sink down onto his cock.

The angle is hollowing. You feel your jaw go slack and Aemond grins at the look on your face. He’s infuriating, intoxicating.

You set yourself a steady rhythm, looking down along your breasts, your stomach, to the point where your bodies come together. Aemond moves against you, pressing deeper every time your hips meet yours.

“Is this good?” you say.

He nearly chokes on his own breath. “Fuck, yes,”

You press your lips together, determined to quicken your pace, chasing the feeling bursting at your core. You’re close. Aemond is holding your hips, bucking up into you, trailing his thumb to your clit to circle over it.

Sounds of pleasure slip past your lips. It’s in the back of your mind to keep quiet, considering the risk of other people being in the house, even if they’re miles away. There’s no space in your mind for logic or self preservation.

It builds slowly, tearing through you, tides and riptides. Aemond holds you as your body starts to shake and eventually you have to push his hand away because it’s too much.

He pulls you into his arms, laying you along his body. Your hair falls over his face and he laughs it off. You bury your face into his neck as he grips you, fucks you frantically.

“I’m going to come,” he hisses against your ear.

You’re floating in the aftermath of your orgasm, hints of pleasure licking up your spine where he pushes against a particular space inside of you. “Please,” you feel yourself mumble, “please, please,”

“Where?”

“Inside me.”

He holds you tighter, goes faster, tries to hold in his moans. When he stills he pushes deeper inside you, bringing his lips to your temple as if to thank you.

Your skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat and now you’ve stopped moving, the breeze dances over you. You press your teeth together to stop yourself from shivering, clinging a little tighter to Aemond for his warmth. He’s sweating too but it doesn’t occur to you to be discouraged.

He slips out of you, places you on your side and covers your bodies with the duvet. You cling to him again, your head on his shoulder, your arm thrown over his stomach. It would be a bad idea to fall asleep here. Even if the heat is inviting, the stillness makes you nervous. You glance at his face and he’s staring seemingly into nowhere. What is he thinking about? What is he picturing beyond the sight of his bedroom, books and childhood memorabilia in the gloom of night?

The wind whistles through the window. Eventually you move away from him, out of the warmth of the duvet and enter the glaring white light of the ensuite. Naked, you stand in front of the mirror. Your hair is messy, your mascara smudged around your eyelids. Pale patches of red and purple proudly mark your thighs and breasts, in places only you and Aemond will see. You look tired. You look like you’ve been fucked.

Back in the bedroom, Aemond has moved from the bed. The curtains and the window are closed. He’s in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, sitting at the desk, elbows on the surface, looking at something on his phone. When he hears the door he looks at you and quickly turns off the screen. As casually as you can, you put your clothes back on. He’s leaning back in the chair, watching you.

“I’m going to bed,” you say when you’re dressed.

Aemond stands to meet you before you can reach the door. “Listen,” he says, taking a delicate hold of your arm, “thanks for staying. And for checking on me in the first place.”

You shrug. It wasn’t a favour. You wanted to make sure he was alright. “I was worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” he says, and leans in to kiss you. It’s quick, affectionate, almost domestic.

When he pulls away he’s still looking at you. He lets go of your arm, dragging his fingers lightly down your skin until he has no trail left to follow, right to your hand, your fingers. You hesitate, wanting to kiss him again, but something stops you. Something’s still missing.

“Night, Aemond.”

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eye. “Night.”

It’s raining when you wake up. You’ve been so lucky with the weather all summer, but now the cracks are starting to show. At breakfast you sit with your parents. Your mother asks how your night was, having not seen you since you left the dining room. You say you went to check on Aemond. He was a little upset but he wanted space and you were tired, so you went to bed.

“You two are quite close, I’ve noticed,” she says.

You try not to smile, more out of embarrassment than anything else.

She pulls the same face, trying not to laugh. “I don’t blame you, darling, he’s gorgeous.”

“You saying that must be illegal,” you say.

“Oh please, he’s in his twenties.”

“You’re also married.”

“Oh yeah,” she says, looking at your father, “that too.”

Helaena comes to affectionately pat you on the head when she appears. Aegon grins at you through his teeth, like he knows all your secrets. Daeron is defiant, making a point to greet Viserys, to kiss Alicent on the cheek.

“No Aemond?” Otto says to the Targaryen siblings gathered at one end of the table.

“He got up early I think,” Helaena says, “went for a run.”

You imagine him in a t-shirt and shorts, drenched in rain mingled with sweat, slightly overgrown silver hair sticking to his forehead. You manage a few bites of toast before you start to feel nauseous and try a peach yoghurt instead. It doesn’t help.

You follow Helaena to the library. It’s the perfect weather to watch trash reality TV and psychoanalyse the cast. For a while it’s entertaining, but at some point you start to feel like a scientist watching lab rats.

“How was Aemond last night?” Helaena asks. She’s facing towards the TV, her legs covered in pink patterned leggings, propped up over the arm of the sofa she’s lying on.

“Bothered, clearly, but not very talkative.”

“Hmm.”

An argument has unfolded onscreen. Dreamfyre wanders in through the door and makes a home for herself on Helaena’s lap. “Should I call Cole and ask for some snacks?” she says, flicking the screen of her phone with her thumb.

In a way you’re surprised Aemond hasn’t messaged you, or come to find you, even just to see what you’re up to. You’re sitting on a sofa, a glaringly vacant space next to you.

“I was worried about you.”

“Don’t be.”

“Helaena,”

“Mm hmm?”

“What did Daeron mean about Aemond liking older women?”

She doesn’t respond for a while. The chatter on the TV continues. “He wanted a rise out of Aemond. They do it to each other, they always have.”

“Helaena.”

She turns her head to look at you, craning her neck in an awkward position. You can feel the worry in your face, where it tenses, where your eyes are wide. You’re trying not to overthink it, you really are. Helaena understands it as soon as she sees you. She reaches for the remote to turn the volume down on the TV, shrill, angry voices fading into the hum of electricity. “It’s probably not my place to say, I don’t know what he’s told you.”

He’s told you some things, harmless things. No mention of exes or past summer flings. In a way it scares you that you might become an unmentioned thing in his life.

Helaena shuffles the cat off her lap and sits beside you. “Aemond is…a mystery. He doesn’t tell us anything, then one day something will take us all by surprise.”

“Was him moving back to King’s Landing a surprise?”

“In a way. He was so determined to do his own thing. Get out from under dad’s thumb.”

“So why would he come back?”

“Well he…” she lets out a long sigh. “He got involved with someone while he was working at Harrenhal.”

“A girlfriend.”

“He tried to be all secretive about it but I know when he’s hiding something.”

“Were they together for very long?”

“Two years? Maybe more? He was head over heels for her.”

There have been so many possibilities playing around in your head since last night. Maybe there was a one night stand he wasn’t proud of, maybe an unrequited crush. Two years sounds like a long time to you.

You can’t expect Aemond to have not had a whole life beyond now, beyond you, but there’s a restless feeling in your chest. Daeron mentioning this woman was enough to get to Aemond. And you were the one that went running right to him.

“Sorry, I know you like him,” Helaena says.

“And what, they broke up so he’s moving back?”

“I think it got a bit messy, she was his manager. He probably thought he was better off in a different job, and when your dad is Viserys Targaryen why not take advantage, you know?”

“And she was older than him?”

“Gods yeah, she was twice age, divorced, no kids though.”

“Right.”

“He’s been brooding for months, even over the phone I knew something was bothering him.”

You’re trying to keep your face relaxed. This woman, she’s in the past now, it shouldn’t change how you feel about him, or how he feels about you. But the seed is planted. You don’t know what she looks like but you imagine a deep, sultry laugh in your head, red painted lips, expensive high heels.

“Which is why it’s been so nice to see him come out of his shell lately,” Helaena adds, patting your knee. “You’ve brought that out of him.”

Around lunchtime the weather clears up. The sun shines through the panes of clear and coloured glass in the dining room and Aemond walks in dressed in jeans and red jumper. He sits next to you, smiles at you, offers to pour you a glass of white wine and insists on serving you portions of salad and fries to go with the cuts of steak brought out. His leg rests against yours. When he makes a joke to the table he looks at you while everyone else is laughing. He picks a few stray fries from your plate and grins at you with perfect teeth when you scowl at him. “You’re adorable,” he says, leaning into you, hand wandering to your thigh.

After eating, you hang around with Aemond and his siblings. Aegon claims to have a deck of cards which turns out to be Uno. The lingering tension is obvious. Daeron can’t look Aemond in the eye, even Helaena’s being short with her youngest brother. In the first round of the game you all have a silent agreement to gang up on Daeron and make his life a misery at every opportunity. That makes Aemond smile, so it makes you smile. When Daeron is on the verge of tears Aemond says “fine, we’ll go easy on you then,” and poor Daeron ends up losing again.

“That’s karma, mate,” Aegon says.

After dinner that night you and Aemond drink cocktails, sweet and strong, in the drawing room with the adults. You’re reminded of how charming Aemond is, how well he can work a room when he’s switched on. Always understated, never too brash or too loud. He laughs with your father, compliments your mother’s dress. You feel yourself getting tipsy, hypnotised by the lowlights of the room, the colourful glass lampshades, the glow of the ends of cigarettes.

On your way to bed, Aemond stops you at the bottom of the oak staircase. His pupil is blown wide, black and blue, drinking in the sight of you. He takes a hold of your waist, gently presses you back into the bannister and kisses you like he’ll never get the chance again. Grasping at your body, pushing and pulling you in closer and closer until you’re caged against him.

There’s a silhouette of a woman lingering in the back of your mind. What would a woman from the Riverlands be like, the kind of woman Aemond Targaryen could fall in love with? Did she listen to him talk about history? Did he list his favourite books to her? Was she clever like him, understated like him? If she was divorced was she cold and guarded, or was she gentler?

You shouldn’t overthink it. You shouldn’t think about it at all.

Aemond takes you to his bedroom. He’s eager to get your clothes off, more hurried than he usually is. Once he’s made you come with his fingers and his tongue he gets you on your hands and knees, pushing into you from behind. Your body feels weightless with every thrust inside of you, every snap of his hips against your ass. Your moans are lewd and gasping.

Aemond pulls your torso up, one hand over your mouth, the other keeping you in position. “Can’t fucking help it, can you,” he says between laboured breaths. “Does it feel that good, sweetheart?”

You can only moan against his palm in response.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re desperate.”

You’d say the same about him, if you could.

And the days are all fading into one again. Summer will soon be over to the sound of rain hammering against the windows, thunderstorms and the violent roar of the sea.

Daeron’s comment at dinner is mostly forgotten. He and Aemond are joking again, taking their own jabs at Aegon. Helaena is relieved the boys are all friends again, she says she can’t stand it when their family fights. You watch movies indoors, Helaena walks you through a recipe for lemon cakes with the last of the fruit from a tree on the grounds. When it’s not raining you and Aemond walk Vhagar and Sunfyre around the gardens. You spend every night in his bed and wake up in his arms each morning.

One afternoon Aemond decides to take the dogs on a trail along the cliffs. A light shower falls from the sky but most of the path goes through a forest, evergreens, which keep the rain off you. The sea stretches out to your right and Aemond holds your left hand to keep you on his seeing side.

Nothing in particular prompts you, but the thought has been there for some time now. In less than a week you’ll get back into your parents’ car and drive to King’s Landing. You’ll begin the rest of your life. You’ll see your friends again, go to your favourite pubs on Conquest Street, find a job, maybe live for yourself for a little while. And Aemond would be in the same city.

“How come you’re moving back to King’s Landing?”

He’s doing that thing again, not looking at you. He keeps his grip on your hand, pouts his lips slightly, thinking. “It’s where my job is.”

New job, you think. He didn’t have to go work at his father’s company.

He turns his head when you don’t reply, eye meeting yours. “Is that not a good enough explanation for you?” he says with a slight grin.

“I didn’t say there has to be an explanation.”

“But?”

“But you don’t seem that thrilled about it.”

He shrugs. “It’s just how life has worked out.”

You walk on in silence for a few minutes. Aemond keeps looking ahead to make sure the dogs are still in his sight. You feel the weight of his hand in yours, the heat of his skin and his fingers curled over your knuckles.

You catch the side of your mouth in your teeth. “Helaena mentioned you had an ex at Harrenhal.”

“Did she,” Aemond says, stone faced, eye fixed on Vhagar as she prowls around the trunk of a tree. “What did she tell you?”

Twice his age. Divorced. A coworker– no, manager.

“Not much, that you were together for a while and you worked together.”

He stops walking. His gaze is stern, almost focused. In the gloom of the trees and the overcast sky his eye is more grey than blue.

“When did you two break up?”

“January, just after New Year’s.”

“Why?”

“We kept having these fights, and I suppose she didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“Did you fight a lot?”

“For the last few months. Work took a lot out of her, and me too, but at some point it became harder to balance everything.”

“She was your manager, right?”

“Hel told you that? Yeah, she was. I know how it sounds, we knew it probably wasn’t a good idea to let anything happen. But we got on, and something did happen, and it worked.”

You try to soften your expression, to show him you’re listening. He’s opening up and that should make you happy, right? “So what went wrong?”

“Grandfather was the one who wanted me to work for Targ Corp. We have a half-sister, Rhaenyra. It's a bit of a weird situation but she took her kids and moved to Pentos with my uncle Daemon and his wife, Laena.”

“Oh,”

Aemond makes a sceptical sound against his teeth. “Father was furious, mum was mortified, I don’t know why she took it so personally, but Rhaenyra was always the favourite. Otto saw the opportunity, as he always does, offered me a job and a place on the board.”

“And you took it?”

“Actually I turned him down. I was happy at Harrenhal, I liked my job, I was trying to convince Alys to move in with me, why would I throw that all away? But then she kept asking about it, said Targ Corp was a bigger company and I’d have better opportunities, said I was stupid to turn down a board position.”

“Didn’t she want you to stay?”

His hand comes to his jaw. “I would have hoped so. After that we kept picking arguments, even at work. It wasn’t feasible anymore. If I was around her we’d fight, if I kept my distance she’d complain. Nothing was ever good enough.”

You feel his hand loosen in its grip. You try to hold onto him tighter, but he slips from your grasp and shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat instead.

“I wanted it to work so badly, but eventually she just… gave up on me,” he says. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to know.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say. You thread your arm into his like a half-hearted hug. He’s watching the sea, breathing deeply, brow furrowed, lips fallen. “Do you miss her?”

“I miss when things were good. I don’t miss the rest of it.”

After dinner that night, when Aemond starts to corner you and ask if you want to go to bed, you tell him you’re tired and want to go straight to sleep. He seems concerned but doesn’t question you. He walks you to your bedroom and kisses your forehead. Before he can pull away you peck him on the cheek.

When you close the door, you feel an empty space inside your chest. Sleeping in your own bed, you miss the presence of another body beside you, his limbs intertwined with yours, the smell of his shower gel, his sweat, just him. It’s a peaceful sleep nonetheless.

The 31st of August. It’s just after breakfast and this time tomorrow you’ll be driving through the gatehouse of Dragonstone, through the town, past all the bookshops and cafes you could have spent more time in. At least now you can say you’ve spent a month as a guest at a castle. You treat yourself to a final walk through the house, the library, the portrait gallery adorned with paintings of members of the Targaryen family; silver hair is a common theme.

Viserys has already hung up a portrait of himself. He’s sat in a chair in a hall you recognise from the Red Keep; you visited years ago as part of a school trip. To his right stands a woman with silver hair, her hand resting on his shoulder. To his left is another woman, short hair, black suit, the family sigil on her lapel. Sitting below them, on some kind of steps are his remaining four children, Aegon, Helena, Daeron, and Aemond at the end. The painting certainly wasn’t painted in real time, all of Alicent’s kids would have been born after Aemma Arryn died, which means Viserys chose to include his first wife and exclude his second.

You take a step closer until you can see each brushstroke. Aemond looks about ten, chin in his palm, looking solemn and serious where his other siblings have subtle smiles on their faces. His left eye is clouded over, but there’s no scar.

Aemond hasn’t said anything more about the ex, Alys. You found her on LinkedIn one night when you couldn’t sleep. She doesn’t seem to post often, but reposts a lot from her company’s profile, Harrenhal PR. She has a square jaw, a pointed nose, short black hair and pale skin. Gorgeous, but just a normal person.

When you woke up the next morning you felt so guilty you cleared your search history and deleted the app from your phone for good measure.

Helaena said you’d brought something out of Aemond this summer, that you made him happy. You want to make the most of that. And there are twenty four hours left.

The rain has stopped since last night. The air is clean and clear, the sun even feels warm again. You decide to have a final walk around the pool, conveniently spotting Aemond pulling a packet of cigarettes from a back pocket when you open the door to the patio. Really, you’ve been meaning to talk to him. Properly talk to him.

He puts a cigarette between his lips, curled in a half smile as he raises a lighter to the end. Flame flickers, smoke floats from his mouth and disappears into the faint smell of greenery and chlorine. He takes a long drag and pouts his lips to exhale. “So, are you packed yet?”

“Mostly. I’ll only have to throw a few things into my bag before we go.”

He takes another drag, his breath heavy against the back of his throat. Cigarettes smell like nights out, leaning on the balcony of a dorm party, hangovers and questionable decisions. Now cigarettes smell like Aemond and summer.

He’s looking at you intently. “Are you going to miss me?” smirking as he says it.

You force yourself to laugh. For some reason you’d been expecting him to say something sweet, honest. It puts your defences up. No, I’m not. Can’t wait to be rid of you actually. You could play it off like a joke too. You fold your arms and shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“What’s the plan when you get back, job applications?”

“I guess so. What about you?”

He taps the cigarette, ash floating to the ground. “Well, work.”

You don’t like Aemond pretending to be unserious, his short responses. “Do you have friends in King’s Landing?”

“A few acquaintances. Work will keep me busy enough.”

“Right.” You can feel your heart creeping up into your throat. You can feel it pulsing. Aemond takes another drag and half smiles. “We should go out one night, the two of us.”

He takes the cigarette between two fingers and pulls it away from his mouth. You know something’s gone wrong when that air of self assuredness starts to melt away. He puts his weight into his hand on the balustrade, leaning slightly away from you.

He says your name like he’s exhausted. “Look, we’ve had fun, but I didn’t think–” another drag, another audible breath.

“Didn’t think what?”

“I’m not looking to be in a relationship right now.”

The way he says that word makes you sick. Relationship. Like it’s poison in the air around you, like it’s churning in his stomach. It’s making yours turn now.

In a way you knew it. You knew you were missing something.

Aemond tosses the cigarette onto the grass and places his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

The space behind your eyes is hot and stinging and your hand is trembling. You try to dig your nails into your palm to make it stop. All of it. Your head has tilted down, your eyes are on the concrete tiles, Aemond’s white sneakers. “Okay,” you say.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“I just want to be honest.”

“Hmm.”

“I think you’re amazing, I want you to know that. It’s just not the right time for me.”

He looks at you, a combination of sadness and hopefulness in his expression. Was he planning on telling you this? Or was he going to stop replying your texts once you’d left his family home?

He’s stroking his thumb along your arm. You take a step back.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Aemond.”

He calls your name as you walk away. You don’t need explanations right now. You don’t need honesty. You need to be alone.

Part of you worries he’ll follow you down to the poolside. Part of you wants him to. But you know he won’t. Why would he? When you reach the sunloungers, you look back to the patio and Aemond is gone. You look around you, at this beautiful garden this beautiful house, the trickle and hum of the pool filter, it’s all so perfect. This whole summer has been perfect. But it was always going to end.

Aemond doesn’t show up for dinner. Aegon says he’s got a headache and that he’s going to take the dogs for a walk.

Most of the other guests are leaving tomorrow, the Velaryons, the Wyldes, the Lannisters, and everyone wants to make the most of the night. It’s like a Christmas party, jokes and toasts, stories reminiscing better times, declarations of hopes for the future. Helaena sits beside you and keeps asking you all sorts of questions to keep you engaged in the conversation. You put on your best smile. “I loved that little bakery in town… I can’t believe I got to stay in a castle, I feel like a Princess… alright, I admit it, Aegon has good taste in films.”

You try to ignore the empty space at the head of the table.

Is it better that he said no then and there? Imagine if he’d taken you up on the offer, if you’d gone for dinner or drinks, if you’d ended up at his place or yours. Would it hurt more if he told you a week or a month down the line? Would it have been better if none of this had happened in the first place?

You tell yourself not to regret it. It was good in the moment. It was fun and exciting, it was good to feel wanted for once, and being with him made you happy. You thought it made him happy too.

Dinner is followed by drinks in the drawing room. You join in for a while, until Aegon, Daeron and Helaena want to go down to the beach, one last time for summer’s sake. The sun is still setting and it's mild out. You and Helaena swap your heels for sneakers and wear coats over your dresses, while the boys go in their shirts and slacks.

Damp sand shifts under your shoes and a sharp wind stings against the skin of your cheeks and hands. As the sun slips closer to the horizon the sky burns brighter and fiercer. You breathe in the air, the smell of salt, the sound of the waves. Aegon and Daeron run towards the edge of the water, ditching their shoes, flicking seawater at each other, laughing hysterically.

Helaena links her arm through yours.

“I’m going to miss it here,” you say. Being by the sea in King’s Landing isn’t the same. In the city there are busy harbours, factories and old power stations along the shore. There are some public beaches, none that would offer the same peaceful isolation of right here, right now.

“Me too. I miss it every year, but then we come back to it.”

You can’t see yourself coming back here. Maybe Viserys will invite your parents again, but by next summer you could have a job, your own life in King’s Landing you won’t be able to leave behind for a whole month. And even if you wanted to, this whole place reminds you of Aemond. You imagine Sunfyre and Vhagar running along the beach, pawprints in the sand, Aemond by your side, talking with his hands, retreating into himself when you mentioned King’s Landing.

You don’t want to be upset about it.

“We’ll hang out in King’s Landing,” Helaena says.

A shudder goes through you. “It won’t be like this,” you say.

“Will it matter where we are? We’ll still be friends.”

You look at her, eyes watering with the wind. She smiles.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m just being stupid.”

She squeezes your arm. “No, you’re not.”

“It’s just, I’ve really liked this. It’s been nice living for myself, not having to think about lectures or exams or what the rest of my life is going to look like, because I’ll figure it out like everyone else. Only it wasn’t– I’m leaving and the month is ending. How could I think this feeling was going to last forever?”

A shriek of laughter from the boys catches both of your attentions. Aegon’s fallen on his arse and drenched himself completely.

“Idiots, they’ll get hypothermia,” Helaena mutters with a grin. She turns back to you. “Maybe this is an ending, but maybe it’s the start of something else.”

You nod. You know she’s right. The world doesn’t start or end with a single person, but it still hurts.

“I thought it was weird Aemond wasn’t at dinner.”

“Yeah, well,”

Helaena looks like she wants to say something, but she pouts her lips, like Aemond does when he’s thinking.

Aegon and Daeron call you down to the shore. You slip your shoes off and place your feet in the water, it’s like ice shooting up through your legs. You shriek and giggle, and kick water at Daeron when he tries to splash you.

Aegon puts one arm around Helaena, another soaked arm around yours. “Ladies, gent, it’s been a pleasure.”

You’d forgotten the Targaryens were about to part ways for another year too. Aemond and Helaena will be in the same city, but Daeron has another year left at Citadel Boys and Aegon never seems to stay in one place for very long.

“Don’t get all emotional on us, Aeg,” Daeron says.

“And don’t miss me too much when you’re in Oldtown, kiddo.”

“I’m sure he’ll survive,” Helaena says.

When you finally reach the top of the path back to the house, shivering and damp, you’re the first to spot someone standing just outside the main doors. You know it’s him, you recognise his silhouette and his posture, the faint glow of a cigarette.

You hang back a little. Aegon and Daeron show off their soaked shirts and wet hair. Helaena gives him a kiss on the cheek and they all head inside.

You stare at each other for a moment, alone.

“Did you, um, have a nice evening?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He takes another quick drag. “I was just thinking and, you know, I feel bad about, well, everything.”

You’re so ready to get out of the cold. All you want is a shower and the weight of your duvet. You’re too tired to fight this fight. “It’s fine, you were just being honest.”

“But I don’t want you to think–”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you say. “I want to go to bed.”

Aemond hangs his head, taps some ash onto the ground.

You take a step towards the doors. And stop yourself.

“Actually, it’s not fine. You’ve spent the whole summer flirting with me, talking me into your bed, making me think you liked me, just to throw it all back in my face?”

Aemond seems utterly perplexed. “No, gods, don’t say it like that,” he says in a harsh whisper.

But you’re done being gracious and apologetic. “Like what? Like I was a convenient fuck? That’s what this was, wasn’t it? And now I look like a complete dickhead for thinking this actually meant something to you.”

“It does— it did.”

Your heart beats furiously in your chest. How could you possibly believe him? “So you liked me enough for a summer fling, but not enough to keep me around, is that it?”

Aemond tosses his cigarette to the ground and drives it into the gravel with his foot. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“I don’t know what to think. Was this all a lie? Were we playing pretend?”

Every time you caught him looking at you, every coffee he brought you when he was grovelling for your forgiveness, every conversation, every time he kissed you, every night you spent in his bed, it wasn’t real.

“I like you. I never played up my feelings. I wasn’t trying to get something out of you,” he says.

Then why does it have to be so confusing and complicated? Why can’t it be enough that you like him and he likes you? Why can’t it be enough that you like being with him?

Your heart sinks. “Is this about Alys?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, that’s nothing to do with you.”

“Are you not over her or something?”

“Yes! No, I– I don’t fucking know. I haven’t thought about her for months and then…”

“And then what?”

He looks at you like he’s pleading for something. You’re waiting for him to say he still loves her. You’re waiting for him to admit you were just a placeholder, someone to fill a missing space. He huffs in frustration, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead.

“Do you still have feelings for her?”

“Are you jealous, is that it?”

You flinch at the harshness of his tone. Jealous of someone you’ve never met? Who he never brought up until his brother wanted to be petty? You can’t bring yourself to say it outright. If he still loves her or not, the mere mention of her made him withdraw.

Aemond steadies his breathing. He steps into you and your instinct is to back away but you let yourself stand still. His chest is close to yours, your faces inches apart. He doesn’t touch you. “This,” he says, gesturing between the two of you, “this was good, why can’t we leave it at that?”

Then you do back away from him and as you look at him you realise he’s being sincere. Tears stream from your cheeks. You don’t gasp for air or try to stop yourself from crying. You can’t stay out here in the cold. You can’t look at him any longer.

But you look him in the eye one final time, even though it hurts, even though you want nothing more than to lose yourself in his embrace, and say, “maybe this is for the best. I don’t want to live my life afraid of the future.”

You give him another moment to say something, but all he can do is look at you. There’s nothing else you want from him. You head inside the house, dried tears on your cheeks, your heart that little bit more guarded, into the warm light of the chandeliers hanging over the entrance hall.

The 31st of October. It’s 5pm and it’s already dark. Even though the same thing happens every year it somehow manages to surprise you how short the days are in autumn and winter. You’ve watched daylight come and go from behind the counter of the cafe, a job which your dad thinks is a waste of time. You change out of your t-shirt and apron, into some blue jeans, a black sweater and wrap yourself up in a coat and scarf. As you pass the counter to leave one of your colleagues hands you a white paper bag, a slice of pumpkin loaf cake, which you’ve been eyeing up all day.

You walk quickly to the bus stop, grateful to see you’ve arrived at the same time as the bus, no need to wait in the cold. You find a seat near the back, put some headphones on and take a few bites of the cake, sweet and spicy. Lights and Halloween decorations turn into a blur. You watch people heading home from work, chatting outside pubs, the odd group of girls in fancy dress.

Rain starts to spit against the window as a large white building comes into view. You press the red stop button and stand by the doors as a robotic voiceover will be announcing the next stop as National Museum.

Once you’re off the bus you hurry up the steps to the museum’s main entrance. Someone scans a ticket on your phone, a security guard looks through your bag where he’ll only find your work clothes, a bottle of water and some spare mint tea bags.

Visiting hours are about to end and the main hall of the museum is practically empty, save for a few statues of Kings and Queens and academics. It’s eerie. A few voices echo through the pillars and vaulted ceiling. You see some people dressed in suits and smart dresses head up a marble staircase on the other side of the hall and suppose that’s the direction you’ll be heading in too. There are signs to help as well, pointing you towards the Tyrell Lecture Hall.

Your phone buzzes as you head towards the doors. You fumble to turn it on silent and check an incoming text message. Dyana, from work, the two of you became fast friends when you started working at the cafe: Offer’s still there for tonight btw!! Would be great if you came xx

But then I understand if you wanna spend Halloween talking about dead people. Very fitting lol

You walk towards the door to the lecture hall while looking down at your phone. The book launch ends at 8pm. People probably won’t show up to Dyana’s until 9pm. You could make it. But you don’t have a costume. You could go back to your place first. But then–

Knowing that you’re probably a few steps from walking face first into the doors to the lecture hall, you look up. Someone is holding the door open. You make eye contact with a single blue eye.

“Hi,” Aemond says. He’s in a black turtleneck jumper which accentuates his jaw beautifully. He has a purple lanyard around his neck and a brown coat thrown over his arm. His hair has grown since August.

“Hi,” you say, without taking a breath.

“You’re here for the book launch?”

“Yeah,” you say, peering inside where people are taking their seats on rows of ornate wooden benches around the main stage.

“I didn’t know you were interested in Valryian history?”

“I’m not to be honest, I just thought it would be interesting, especially after spending the summer at Dragonstone…”

An awkward silence falls between you.

You’re still looking at each other and Aemond suddenly smiles. “How are you? You look good,”

You raise an eyebrow.

He clears his throat and runs his free hand through his hair. “I meant, have you found a job yet?” His cheeks and the tip of nose are turning pink.

“I did. Not the one my parents were expecting, but I wanted some time to figure things out, go to book launches and exhibitions and plays, you know?”

“What’s the job?”

“I’m working in a cafe on Sisters Street, Blue Moon.”

His eye brightens. “No way, on Sister’s Street? I pass that place all the time, it’s right by my department building, I keep meaning to go in.”

You try not to frown, but the Red Keep, the main office for Targ Corp, sits on Aegon’s Hill overlooking Blackwater Bay, a good distance from Sisters Street. “Department building?”

“Yeah, so, right, I spent one week working for my father and I hated it. It was all very last minute and my father was furious but I enrolled in a curation course at King’s College.” He holds up his lanyard to show you and sure enough, it’s attached to a student ID card.

“Wow, Aemond, that’s amazing.”

“I was thinking about what you said, actually, about not being afraid to live life.”

You wince. That was the last thing you had said to him, until now. You said that because you were upset and frustrated at him, at his ridiculous logic, that he would end something to avoid an outcome neither of you could be sure of. With time and space to think, you’d realised he had done it for himself, not for you. It hadn’t saved you from the heartbreak, but maybe that was your fault for getting your hopes up. And to hear him say it back to you is a bittersweet feeling.

“I’m really happy for you,” you say.

It’s getting close to the start of the presentation, the other attendees are settling down but you can’t quite bring yourself to walk through the door yet.

Aemond lets the door close so the two of you are alone in the hallway. “Look, I know we’re about to go in, but I’ve thought a lot about you”

You press your jaw together. The morning you left Dragonstone he didn’t show his face at breakfast. He didn’t come to the entrance hall as you were leaving. When Helaena followed you outside and walked with you to your parents’ car, you took a final look at the facade of the castle, at all the individual windows and saw nothing. You thought he wanted to forget you, to move on and leave you in the memory of summer.

“I wasn’t fair to you. And you were right, I was afraid. I was scared of having something good in my life because I thought, what’s the point? It’s not going to last forever.”

“But isn’t the alternative worse?”

“Well, exactly. Helaena says I’m on the right path if I want to be miserable forever.”

“That sounds promising,” you say lightheartedly.

The corners of his mouth curl shyly. “Turns out, I might not want to be miserable forever.”

Being so close to him is comforting and disorientating. You’ve thought about him too, cried over him, thought about what it would be like to kiss him again, to put your head on his chest, pictured a moment when you might run into him by chance. He’s wearing the same aftershave he did in August, underneath a faint smell of smoke and mint.

You’ve forgiven him before. Could you do it again?

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have pressed you about Alys, it wasn’t my place.”

Aemond tilts his head. “It’s alright. I thought I was over the whole thing, but then I met you and it messed with my head.”

“Oh, sorry,”

“No, sweetheart,” he laughs, “not in a bad way. I know I fucked it when we first met, but the more you were around, the more time I spent with you, all I wanted was for you to like me. I hadn’t felt like that in a long time.”

The sound of applause erupts from inside the hall. Dr Orwyle will be about to start his presentation.

Aemond offers his hand to you. “Come sit with me?” he says, and you take it.

You sit together and find seats near the back. Dr Orwyle is a professor at King’s College, presenting his book The Doom of an Empire. He talks about Old Valyria, its presence as the greatest empire of the ancient world, ruled from a capital built into a volcano, the legends of dragon lords and bloodmages.

In the corner of your eye you see Aemond turning his head towards you occasionally. You catch his eye and he smiles.

As Dr Orwyle starts to talk about the final days of Valyria and the mystery of a disaster known as The Doom, you shuffle in your seat and your leg brushes against Aemond’s. You take a breath and let yourself settle against him.

Aemond is practically bursting with questions for a Q&A portion, and Orwyle recognises him as a member of the King’s College History society. You can’t help but feel proud seeing Aemond so animated talking about something that he loves.

You wait with Aemond to get his copy of the book signed and he’s still talking excitedly about an upcoming exhibition on the Valyrian Freehold, which he’s convinced his father to sponsor and loan pieces to.

And when the event is finished, you and Aemond slip your coats on and walk through the museum, his arm in yours. The rain that was starting as you arrived has lulled into a drizzle. You wait under the cover of the grand archway over the museum’s entrance.

You look up at him, trying to bury his chin in his coat, keeping close to you when he sees you shivering.

Noise exists in the space around you, cars, buses, tyres against the wet roads, music from a pub on the other side of the road. You and Aemond are removed from it, standing on the steps of an ancient building. His voice is gentle and you’re close enough to hear it.

“How are you getting home?” he asks.

“I’ll get the bus.”

“You could always– I’d be more than happy to give you a lift?”

“No, it’s fine, but thank you.”

“Would you text me when you’re home, so I know you’re safe?”

A warmth blooms in your chest. “Yeah, of course.”

You wonder if this could be the last time you see him. Maybe he’s thinking the same. You look towards the bus stop, anticipating that it could show up any moment. You wonder if Dyana’s texted you again, if she’ll be waiting for you to show up at the party. You tell yourself you should go but you don’t want to walk away from him.

“I think you should stop by Blue Moon sometime,” you say.

“Yeah?”

“I can get you a discount on pumpkin spice lattes.”

“Damn, I don’t suppose getting you coffee to apologise will work the same now.”

“No chance.” You let yourself close the distance between you, your chest pressed into his and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. His skin is warm against your lips, his breath hot over your ear. You feel his hands at your waist. “But I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

Thank you so much for following along with this mini series, I really appreciate all the love <3

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yoonmetogether · 27 days ago

Text

Not In the Cards prelude pt. 3 - strangers

pairing: gambler/drug dealer!yoongi x grad student!fem!reader rating: mature MDNI! 18+ only. Blank/ageless blogs will be blocked!!! genre: strangers-to-lovers, age gap, intro to e2l mafia/bodyguard au summary: he takes his time with you. will he make it last? warnings/tags: angst, scars, theft, implied gang activity/violence, 97% smut lolol, oral (m. and f. receiving), usage of sl*t, tit/ass smacking, slight masochism, cock warming, yoongi’s kinda a dom, reader’s kinda shy but mostly a brat, bantering, dialogue heavy, reader cries, a crumb of fluff, yoongi pov (he's going thru it), pls let me know if i missed anything!! also this is barely proofread so my bad for any mistakes, i'll go back and fix stuff eventually i just need this out of my system lol wc: 11.6k lmaooooooo thanks again to my beta reader @yoonglesyeobo for her fantastic support and feedback; to @syllviere for helping me come up with mafia names for jin and jungkook, and figuring out some lines and scenes and character development (her mind is just 😩🤌); and finally to @moochii-daisies for giving some wonderful commentary <3333 y'all are amazinggggggg

prologue l ch 1. play nice l prelude pt 1. strangers l prelude pt. 2 l prelude pt. 3 l ch. 2 ... l

The first thing that drew you to Min Yoongi was his voice. Husky and mystifying, like a storm settling down on the distant horizon after a night of raging, dragging you into the dark depths of lust and filth and enthrallment. Then his hands, warm between your legs and even warmer wrapped up in your fingers.

Now, it’s his hooded brown eyes as he stares at you, pressing you into the wall of the foyer, shoes off, hat and bag and bandanna dropped. Your blood roils when he leans in close, his face dewy, flushed, and beautiful. Ethereal.

That small pinch in his brows returns, and just as you’re about to crack at him with a defensive ‘the fuck are you looking at’ to rival the pressue in your chest, he raises a hand to press on the wall above your head. Leftover rain drips down the tips of his stringy bangs as his slow blinking stare moves to and doesn’t falter from your mouth.

He cups your chin, running a thumb down the corner of your lip, underneath it, an unreadable expression on his face and then he kisses you again; soft, gentle. Slow.

You’re pressed between his chest and the wall as he licks embers into your mouth, your hands sliding up to his clothed, solid muscles. Once on his shoulders and under the jacket, he drops his arms so you can shove it down to the floor, hands falling to your waist and gripping tight, pushing your hips into his.

In a somewhat coordinated fashion, he moves you over to the bed, and you end up in between his legs again as he sits on the edge, letting him tear off your jacket and shirt and unclip your bra, strewing them over the bed. You comb through his wet hair as he trails his lips down your sternum, across your breasts. His mouth attaches on your bare tit, lips pursing and tongue lapping against the bud, making your head tip back in bliss.

Your nails scratch down his back and he purrs over your skin, mouth alternating between your nipples as you touch over his chest, the wet cling of his t-shirt.

“Can I take this off?” you request softly, pulling at the fabric on his shoulder.

“Turn the light off first.” Your eyebrows knit and you want to ask what he’s hiding from you, but you’re sure if you made the request, he’d comply without question. You kiss him before moving away, his hands lingering on your waist for as long as possible.

Prior to casting the room into darkness, you remember to retrieve a condom - the very reason you ventured out in the middle of the night. You toss it in his direction that he catches with ease and move back to the table, stuffing the bag of food in the minifridge and finally switching off the lamp. When you return to him, you waste no time yanking off his shirt, and he raises his arms with a chuckle at your eagerness.

The only light comes from a distant lamp outside, and the occasional illuminations from the storm, allowing you to at least see the silhouette of his torso. In awe, you drag your hands down, smoothing over his chest, tracing the subtle lines of muscle as you kiss him. But your eyebrows furrow when you pass over a small area of raised skin on his right shoulder, just under his collarbone. You run your thumb across it, stomach dropping when you feel that it’s particularly… round.

This shouldn’t come as a surprise. But it shocks you, only because you hate the thought of where he got it from. And how many more just like it he has.

When you part, your meddlesome tongue loosens to drop a blunt question, but his tough hand pulls your wrist away from that spot.

“Don’t say anything,” he pleads under his breath, and your heart twinges at the pain radiating from that soft whisper and you have no desire to inflict more of it. Fingers tenderly tangled in his hair, you tilt his head up and kiss him with your silent promise that this is territory you won’t ask questions about. He sighs against you, shoulders deflating.

“My turn,” you mumble, trailing kisses down his jaw, his neck, to his chest and sternum, sinking to your knees. He spreads his legs as you work open his belt and jeans, pulling them down with his boxers, tantalizingly slow. He kicks them away once they reach his ankles and you plant your hands on his thighs, slowly caressing up to his hips, humming at his soft skin.

“The universe took its time with you, huh?” you muse, straying from his exposed dick so you can feel over his slightly toned stomach, and clarify in a murmur,

“I mean all of you when I say that.”

Nothing answers you, but you don’t mind as you gently wrap your fingers around his hard length, long and thick and barely able to fit in one hand. He takes a shuddering breath and leans back as you let spit fall onto his tip, spreading it with your thumb to mix with the precum that dribbles out at your ministrations.

As you take him into your mouth, the low growl that tapers on the end of his sigh as you wrap your lips around him and suck only makes you wish you could see more than the silhouette of his expression to know what you’re starting to do to him.

Hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, you prepare to take more of him in. His hips jerk as you bring him further back into the wet heat of your mouth, both of you moaning when he hits the back of your throat and he apologizes for his involuntary thrust.

Dismissively shaking your head, you take him even more and pause, doing your best to accommodate him, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes shut in concentration. He bucks his hips again, moaning when you take him a little further and gag, goosebumps covering your skin as he brushes back a loose strand of hair on your forehead.

“You sound so fucking hot choking on my dick, dollface,” he groans, fingers pressing into your scalp, and you keep going to draw out more of his sounds and praise, pairing it with twists of your hand on his shaft.

Jaw aching, you divert a little attention to his balls, and your clit throbs at his loud moan as you suck one into your mouth, continuing to jerk his shaft.

It doesn’t take long for him to mutter out, “Shit, I’m close.”“Already?” Because of course you have to tease as you bring your mouth back to his shaft.

“I’ve been hard for hours.”

“Poor you.”

He scoffs and pushes at your head to send you back down on his dick, so you increase your pace of twisting and bobbing, salivating at his breathy moans warning his release.

Suddenly, he sharply inhales and stands up, knocking you on your haunches, large palm on the top of your head angling it back. Lightly smacking your hand away, he pushes into your mouth to thrust in and out with your tongue laid flat on a thick vein.

With one buck of his hips and then another, he pulls out, growling as he rapidly jerks himself, knuckles tapping your lip and chin.

“Fuuuuck,” he drawls as his release ropes onto your tongue, and your eyes close at the heat sliding down your throat, swallowing all of him down.

“Good girl.” And then you’re roughly tugged up by your elbows to stand chest to chest with him, lips smashing onto yours with an immediate tongue in your mouth.

You let him kiss you in this fiery way of his

“Lay down. I’m gonna ride you.”

“Oh, are you calling the shots?” He muses, plopping back down.

“I’ve been calling the shots this entire time. Problem?”

“Yeah,” he puffs. “Still you.”

Shaking your head, you lift yourself by your knees onto the mattress as he maneuvers to rest against the headboard, fingers trickling the outsides of your thighs as you straddle him.

You squint as he sticks his two middle fingers in his mouth, rolls them over his tongue, and pulls them out with a lewd pop. You fall forward to grab onto his shoulders as he slides through your folds and curls into your cunt, scissoring you open.

“Can you come just from my fingers, dollface?”

“No, I need you.”

A rumble of thunder fills a pause before he asks, “Need me? How.”

“Fucking me,” you rasp. “Please.”

“I didn’t think you could be so polite.”

“Like you’ve had great manners,” you grit.

He snickers and removes his fingers, sucking them into his mouth again. Your thighs shake, pussy throbbing, desperate to be filled again.

After he finishes tasting you, he locates the condom and tears it open while you take the time to rise on your knees, hands on the back of his head, kissing and licking along his neck, under his jaw, over the small hoops in his ear. He hums and leans into the marks you make on the column of his throat, arm flinging to the side to dispose of the wrapper before one hand goes to your hip, the other to the back of your neck, tugging you down to lock his mouth with yours.

Slowly sinking into his lap, you grind over his protected length that bobs in response. Lips locked, you reach between your legs to grab his dick, moving the head to gather up your slick, and when that’s not enough, you retract your hand to spit in it and jerk his shaft to lube up the rest of him. He hums deeply in approval, tilting towards you and leaning back on his hand as you slowly guide him in.

He breaks the kiss and your skin prickles with the sensation of his eyes roving up and down your naked form, palm coasting down your side to your back and ass. Breathing shakily, your nerves freeze from the pressure of it all.

“Gotta relax, baby.” His sultry tone lodges a pathetic moan in your throat.

“I am, you’re just fucking big,” you snap and he chuckles, massaging and kissing over your breast.

“You took me just fine before.”

“I was desperate.” You hiss as his teeth tease your nipple.

“Mmm. And now you want to take your time? Don’t stroke my ego too much.”

“You’re right, it’ll get as big as your head and no one wants that.” He smacks the side of your tit in retaliation and you yelp at the sting, but a dirty tingle in your gut wants him to do it again.

“Annoying fucking brat.”

“You weren’t saying that when you were fucking my face just now.”

“Because your big mouth was full and you couldn’t talk back. It was actually kind of nice.”

Keeping your head down, you take a deep breath to try and calm your racing pulse, but you can still feel him checking out your naked form, hand smoothing over your waist. You want to do this, but you can’t relax.

“Can you maybe just… not look at me?” you request quietly, pressing your fingers into his shoulders to pass over some of your stress.

“Why? Am I making you nervous?” Heart thudding at his teasing tone, you clap a palm over his mouth and push him away to get him out of your face. He falls back against the headboard with a harmless laugh, both hands resting on your thighs.

“What are you- oh,” he says as you unmount him, only to turn around to sit over his lap, knees on the inside of his legs, breathing freely now that you’re not facing him. You adjust your stance with your feet wiggling under his thighs, and he lays flat on his back, head of his cock landing on the center of your ass and with a small moan, you lift up so he can prod your entrance but not push any further, seemingly waiting for you to take the lead. Finally out of your head, you feel a little less pressure and sink back onto him.

As you completely sheathe him and find your bearings, basking in the fullness, the soft murmur that comes from behind you flings your pulse into a frenzy.

“I meant what I said earlier. You’re beautiful.”

And just like that, his simple assurance, which you (for once) believe whole-heartedly, gives you confidence. You start out slow and hesitant, this position not one you’re wholly experienced with, but one that takes some of the performance pressure off. Fighting for breath, you arch your back, and receive a small hiss in response, and then, a growl.

“Lean forward a bit,” he encourages, palm pressing on your lower back and your nerves tremor at the tender velvet in his tone. Accepting his guidance, you let out a wanton moan as your adjusted posture allows him to fill every inch of you at a delicious angle.

It takes a second to find your rhythm, what movements and angles give you the most pleasure, silently grateful for his hands on your ass supporting you.

“Yeah, use me,” he grunts, a harsh swat and grope of his hand on your ass sending a pleased yelp to the ceiling. “My good fuckin’ slut.”

You stutter out a whimper, the possessive term something you could get dangerously hooked on, despite doubting that he means it literally. He’s just caught up in the moment.

Right?

Grinding back on him, slick sounds of his hard cock sliding in and out of every inch of your core mix with his gratified purrs.

“Damn, this pussy is driving me crazy.”

“Good.” He huffs and swats your ass.

“Brat. Where’s my bandana?”

“You want me to go get it?”

“Nah. Stay right here.”

Lightning flashes, and the soft murmur of his words sends a shiver down your spine just as thunder cracks. You watch the windows in front of you rattle with nature’s vibrations and for a moment as you roll and bounce on him in a sloppy rhythm, you focus on the tempest whirling around outside, blackening the ocean, dark waves smashing up on the stone wall near where you were just sitting on Yoongi’s lap as he smoked.

But then he starts muttering soft praises and pleased hums, hand never straying from your ass, and your mind goes blank as you focus on your motions to evoke more of his enticing sounds.

Thighs starting to ache at the exertion, you find purchase with your fists on the mattress between his legs and arch forward, jaw dropping in a gasp when his cock hits a spot so deep inside you that you see infinite, sparkling galaxies behind your closed eyes. Riding through the strain, you whimper in ecstasy as he moans behind you, kneading your ass in continuous support of your riding.

Ultimately, your muscles give out in exhaustion, so you groan and tip forward, fingers finding his ankles as you stop to catch your breath and he grabs onto your waist to hold you in place.

“You alright?”

“I’m tired.”

“Had enough?” You shake your head.

“Good. I’m not done with you.” His promise is gruff as he pushes you off and handles you to the head of the mattress, stuffing pillows under your head before standing on his knees outside of your legs, forcing your ass into the air with a firm grip on your hips. Adjusting one of the pillows to comfortably prop yourself up, you use it to muffle a moan when he lazily slaps your clit with his cockhead, circling it a few times before gliding to your fluttering hole.

Hand pressing down on your spine, he rolls into you, easily finding that patch of nerves and slowly hitting it with steady thrusts. You bury a prolonged moan into the pillow, eyes squeezing shut in a telepathic prayer, thanking the universe for throwing this dangerous man in your life when you least expected but needed him most.

You’re not alone now.

And then he fills you to the brim, making you whimper as he starts fucking you at a languid pace, completely contrary to the ardent rhythm he set in the closet, so you take it with pleased moans. But at some point you find yourself moving on your own accord, wiggling and grinding your hips to meet his thrusts, desperate to bring out that demon in him.

“You keep trying to take over, dollface,” he muses, letting go of your hips completely when you don’t stop rocking back on him. “Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you were tired.”

“Maybe I want you to go harder.”

He hums, smoothing both palms over your ass to your lower back.

“If you want something, you could try that polite thing again.”

You suck in a deep breath. “Fuck me harder. Please.”

“Please, what?” he grits.

“Please, Yoongi!”

He chuckles and then slams into you, sending your conscience to travel in another plane of existence, fucking you until you’re so far gone, you don’t even realize you’ve been chanting his name like a song you never want to stop singing.

“Not gonna lie, though. I hate you for winning my money, Angel,” he grumbles, bringing you back down to earth. “Fuckin’ hustler.”

“Is that why you really came back?” you taunt out in between moans. “So I could make it up to you?”

He suddenly stops and roughly yanks you up by your shoulder, handful of your tit, pinning your back to his chest.

“You made it up to me in that closet,” he tells you thunderously. Another bolt of lightning brightens the room for a split second, a boom from the sky responding loudly a few seconds later. But you barely notice over the blood storming in your ears as

“I came back because I can’t get you out of my head. Happy?” He says it like you shouldn’t be, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

“Are you admitting that you like me?”

“I’m not fucking admitting anything,” he snarls, distracting you from the scorn in his tone with his fierce re-entrance, snapping into you and picking up his unwavering pace.

Dare you say impassioned?

The echoes of squelching matches the smacks of skin as he pounds into you relentlessly, cock plunging deep and rigorous, and you start to lose your mind when his balls roughly slap your clit.

He angles against your spot and keeps his momentum there, the fire in your belly growing hotter, tightening your muscles, heightening your whines, jellifying your mind.

“You gonna come again for me, hm?” he coos in a cocksure timbre.

Smug bastard, you say to yourself, not realizing you’ve spoken out loud until he delivers another smack to your ass with a low chuckle.

Grabbing your hip, he lowers himself on top of you, chest pressed into your back, sinking you further into the mattress. Mewling as you’re heated and weighed down by his flushed skin, he curves his arm around your head so your face is nestled in the crook of his elbow, driving into you at a fast, consistent pace.

“Yoongi!” you wail, breath collapsing as he fucks you to your peak. “Don’t stop! Please, I’m-“

The words catch in your throat as your climax approaches, and he reaches under to stroke your clit, the muscles on his bicep flexes just as he growls right in your ear, “Come.”

The simple word muttered in his low, lusty tone is the final push to the edge of a tsunami-esque wave of pleasure, mouth hanging open soundlessly. For once you’re speechless, like the force of your orgasm depleted all the brain waves responsible for forming cohesive sentences or even thoughts. His mouth sucks hard on the back of your shoulder, rolling his hips at a sharp pace so he can drag his dick through every inch of your core. He hits you deep over and over and over as you pulse, violent and overpowering, and you feel the need to scream. The only way to muffle yourself is by biting something and the closest thing is his bicep. So you scrape your teeth on his bulging muscle, and he groans, grabbing your ass as his elbow tightens a pinch more around your head.

“Harder,” he demands in a growl, and you obey, clamping down. The divots you’re leaving in his skin are enough to nearly draw blood, but it doesn’t seem to phase him as he ruts into you.

In fact, you think it’s spurring him on.

He slides up, tags on the back of your neck, clenching the sheets beside your head and burying his face in your neck as he uses the support of his thighs to ruck into you with thorough, earnest thrusts. Is he trying to split you in half?

In the midst of your spiral, your heart palpitates upon just barely hearing him whisper with lips and chains weighing on your skin,

“Fuck have you done to me?”

You shudder. You could ask him the same question.

And then he pulls out of you, lifting up so an onslaught of slightly chilled air encompasses you. You don’t have time or the mind capacity to object before his hands on your waist roll you onto your back and, bleary eyed, you gawk up at his pallid features blurred by the darkness - his broad chest heaving, biceps flexing, wet bangs and long chains dangling in the air.

His fingers brush up your sides, trailing over your arm, across your clavicles, setting you on fire, skin prickling with sweat and electricity. He ducks his head to kiss down your neck, lick over your nipples, in between your breasts.

Oh, god. Can he feel how fast your heart is pounding? It’s not just from the aftermath of your orgasm.

He continues his descent and on his knees hunches over, fingers digging into your ass to tip up your hips. Your back arches with a pitiful moan when he ravenously slurps at your cunt, drinking in your cum and humming as he swallows. At this rate, he’ll make you shatter into pieces and you don’t think you can handle it.

So you weakly wrench his hand from your hip, and he sets you down, pulse faltering when he slips back inside you before falling forward to hover above you, one hand on the headboard.

He shifts to fuck into you so deep, and when you reach up to tangle your fingers in the links, he drops his arm from the headboard, caging you in.

Getting high off the sounds of him breathing heavily and moaning softly, head ducked to watch his hips clap against yours, you slide your hands up and down his torso, brows pinching when you coast over more areas of raised and jagged skin; some long and linear, others small and circular like the one by his clavicle. So many violent scars on his ribs, his chest, his back.

Just like you expected.

And at that, unexpected tears prick the corners of your eyes. Soon the sides of your face flood, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down so you can hide the streaks in his neck, biting your lip in a poor attempt to stop your cries.

A few intense thrusts in, you moan, but a small whimper followed by a sniffle slips out, and his hips roll to a stop and pull halfway out before lifting himself to plank above you. You shut your eyes to avoid his stare, more tears squeezing out.

“Hey, you crying?” he asks this gently, no judgement in his hushed tone. Concern? Maybe. Care? …

“I’m fine.” The croak in your voice betrays you.

“We can stop.”

“No, it’s-” you scramble for anything but the real reason you’re shedding tears for him. “I’m glad you came back. And not just for this.”

He doesn’t say anything and you don’t expect him to. Although you want nothing more than to know what he’s thinking about you, about what you just said, about the fact that you’re laid up beneath him fucking crying, you’re content with the fact that he’s just still here.

“I get scared thinking about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

Okay, that’s real. You doubt that the symbol on your neck would’ve deterred those men from getting what they wanted when you’re so far from home.

“Hmm, girl like you can fight, no?”

“You maybe,” you quip with a sniff. He chuckles, breath and tips of his bangs brushing your forehead. “But not all those guys at once.”

“Well, then I guess you’re lucky I found you just in time,” he says, voice soft and small.

“And you’re lucky I’m letting you stay here for free.”

“So, we’re even.”

“Not yet.”

Fisting his hair, you tug him into a searing kiss, free hand sneaking to his ass, eliciting him to moan over your tongue and move again.

Legs bent next to his waist, your nails rake up and down his back, scratching harder when he grunts and increases his rhythm, face dipping to pant against your throat.

“Where can I come?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you wheeze, and he growls, sucking a sloppy bruise under your ear.

Your teeth end up on his shoulder, and you bite like you did before, hardly anticipating the sharp hiss that he sucks in as he surges forward, balls deep, spilling heavily into the condom.

“Mm, Angel,” he moans, staying in a spot deep inside you that sucks him in tighter as he comes, hard and drawn-out, dick pulsing wildly in place, purring for an entire low and long exhale.

“Shit, I meant to-” He starts pulling out and you curl a hand over the side of his neck.

“It’s fine.” You make a mental note to get a pill first thing after you wake up.

“You just-”

“What?” But he shakes his head.

Softening inside you, he starts to pull out, but a spike of panic has your knees pressing against his sides, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him in place.

You don’t want him to leave at all.

“No, stay,” you whisper, scared that as soon as this moment is gone, everything will be over. “Just for a minute.”

Silence permeates the air, and more panic joins the energy wearing off in your veins as you fear you just messed everything up. When he pulls out, apologies tumble from your lips, but he just shifts you onto your side, settles behind with a hand on your lower back, skin a buzz away, and gently pushes back into you, arm passing above your head.

“A minute.”

Eyes closing at the feeling of being so full, and not just from what’s in between your legs, your hand finds its way into his palm. His wrist bends but his fingers don’t curl over yours when you tangle them together. You take a deep inhale to try and calm your pounding heart, hoping he can’t tell just how much you’re overwhelmed by this moment.

By him staying so close, not leaving, not pushing you away, despite how fucking intimate this is.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk to you, Angel.”

“So he can apologize.” Teeth graze your earlobe and you only giggle, but your chest swells with gratitude.

“Well, I’m sorry I hustled you.”

“No, you’re not.” You don’t deny that.

“Then I’m sorry I made trouble for you by winning all of their money and not thinking that they’d come after me.”

You turn your head in an attempt to look at him over your shoulder and despite the darkness, you can feel his dark eyes piercing into yours.

“You weren’t under any obligation to help me, and the fact that you did anyway is why I opened the door.”

Rain playing in the background, your heart pounds when you’re unable to break this stare, a newfound tension growing that ignites once he captures you in a chaste kiss. You relax into it, ignoring the strain in your neck so you can soak in all of these unspoken feelings the two of you are passing over your tongues. He breaks it with a small pop, lips dragging across your cheek and you turn away, unable to quell the whizzing in your chest.

A moment later, his fingertips press ever so lightly over your knuckles, his mouth pressing to your shoulder and an involuntary smile appears on your face that you’re glad he can’t see.

“We can’t fall asleep like this, dollface,” he mumbles after a short while, voice worn and thick in his throat.

You want to protest, but you’re sure you’ll sound pathetic, not in your right mind. Biting your tongue, he gently pushes at your waist and slips out and both of you moan at the loss.

Your bottom lip juts in a deep pout when he climbs off the bed and shuffles away to the bathroom, the snap of the condom coming off accompanying him.

When the door closes, you roll onto your stomach to plunge your head under the pillows, floating back down to earth and into reality - that you just slept with a stranger and it was the best goddamn sex of your life. You want to scream into the bedding to release all of these emotions mounting inside of you, ones that you could define if you weren’t so afraid of them.

After a minute or a century, the edge of the mattress dips and the pillow lifts from your head but you bury your face further into the sheets.

“Oh, good, you didn’t die this time either,” he teases, the humor in his tone at your expense making you never want to roll over.

“Fucked you quiet, huh? Finally.” You shove your middle finger back in his face because that’s the only part of you that can move at the moment and he pushes it away with a laugh. A gentle tug on your elbow forces you onto your side and you begrudgingly take in the cool air stenched with sex. Room still swathed in darkness, you’re unable to see how he’s looking at you but at least notice that he’s once again covered by the robe.

“You should get up.”

“Already bossing me around?”

“Fine, get a UTI for all I care.” You scoff as he stands, raising yourself up with your arms crossed over your chest. You’ve barely moved but your ass is already so fucking sore. You’re gonna pay for that when you have to hop back on a long flight later.

“I’ll just bill you, then,” you mumble as you start to walk past him, gait uneven, whipping around with a squeak when he lands a lazy palm on your bare ass.

“Yeah, okay. Get your pretty ass in the bathroom.”

You flip him off before swiveling around and scurrying away. The light flickers on and heat inundates your cheeks when you just bet he did that to stare at your behind while you walk away.

After cleaning yourself up, you spot the sweater he hung up on the doorknob, now completely dry, not thinking twice about grabbing it to slip on. Finders keepers. It’s so soft and it smells just like him and you want to sleep in it forever and…

Damn girl, you need to reel it back - you just met the fucking guy. It’s barely been twelve hours.

He’s back at the table with his phone plugged in again, staring at it with a frown.

“Still no deposit?”

He shakes his head, glancing up with his brows furrowed and one cocks as you pass by him for the mini fridge.

“Uh, what are you wearing?” You shrug nonchalantly.

“A sweater I found.”

“I’m getting it back.”

“We’ll see.”

He scowls at your cheeky smile, reluctantly accepting the water bottle you pass him. Spotting the remote by the outlet, you reach over him to grab it, switching on the TV hung up in the corner of the room across from the bed and then giving him the control.

He regards you hesitantly before taking it. As you sit down across from him, rooting through the snacks you bought and passing them out between you, he flips through the channels.

In the background, the news plays, and as you start eating, the reporter starts giving updates about the weather.

“Storm’s letting up in the afternoon,” Yoongi announces softly, picking up a snack, the pitter-patter of rain hitting the windows behind him.

Mid-chew, you glance over your shoulder to the forecast displayed on the screen, predicting a decrease in precipitation over the next few hours.

“Hm. So I’ll be able to fly out then.” The words turn sour in your mouth as you focus back on your food, and his next question turns your thoughts grey.

“Going home?”

“No,” you sigh, picking at the wrapper. “My brother would be pissed if I popped up out of nowhere. And I’ve already skipped two classes anyway, so.“

He tisks, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I slept with someone who plays hooky.”

His growing smirk gets smacked with your balled up wrapper.

“Didn’t you literally stab a guy?”

“Touche.”

You match his playful smile and go back to eating and listening to the news in comfortable silence.

Exhaustion seeping into your bones, you think about how slowly it’s killing you how much you’re coming to like him. Even more so that you’re struggling to find the confidence to tell him. Because you two are about to part ways - who knows if this is meant to be more than a one night stand.

“Here,” you say, taking out the box of condoms and tossing it at him. “Restock your wallet.”

He peers at you curiously but doesn’t touch it at first, just what you were hoping for.

You can’t stop the disappointed frown when he ultimately reaches into the box and takes out a few square foils.

“I hope your next fuck treats you to something better than a moldy closet.”

Oh. So then he’s not expecting this to last. Not what you were hoping for.

“Well, I hope your next fuck sends you into crippling debt,” you sneer and he gazes at you with a diminished light in his eyes that you hold with a lasered glare.

You get up, chair loudly scraping the floor, and snatch the wrappers from your side and his to furiously throw them away. You know this reaction is strange and out of character, feeling so rejected when you’re accustomed to one night stands. But something about this man - you can’t help it. And it’s really not fair.

That pisses you off even more.

You storm in and out of the bathroom to aggressively brush your teeth, and then head for the bed, heart jumping when he’s standing right there in the small hallway. A hand around your elbow stops you from passing him in your path of fury and you twist to face him with a hard-set expression, not expecting his unsure frown.

“You’re flying out.”

“And?” you snap.

“And I don’t stay,” he states firmly, letting go of your arm. “Much less date.” (That word shouldn’t make your heart flutter like it does.)

You exhale a short, calmer breath, resolve softening. “You’re staying now.”

You wait for him to say that it’s because it’s still raining. But he doesn’t - eyes just darting between yours, frantically, like he’s looking for something. Your heart races because you don’t know what he’s expecting to find.

“Well, if you don’t want to exchange phone numbers, we could write letters or something,” you half-joke, knot in your gut unraveling.

“Yeah?” He lifts a brow. “And how would that work? I move around a lot.”

“Hm. So do I.”

His jaw clenches as bows his head, pressing three fingers into his eyes, and then offers you his palm, expression flat and begrudging.

“Give me your phone.”

It’s hard to not let the excitement show in your smile, but your cheeks beam with a radiating heat as you scramble around to snatch your phone out of your discarded hoodie, practically shoving it into his hands after you unlock it.

Your nerves vibrate and a smile dances on your lips as you watch him type in his number, eyes downcast when he passes over your device displaying his newfound digits.

“Does this mean you like me?”

“No,” he gruffs, frowning, and your eyes roll at his stubbornness.

“Whatever. I don’t like you either,” you lie.

“Then why do you want my number?”

“So I can bother you from a different time zone.” He lunges for your phone.

“Delete it right now.”

“No! Too late!” You hold your device high in the air but don’t back down from his advance.

“Angel, I swear-“

“What are you gonna do about it?” His eyes narrow at your challenge, lips pulling into a line when he glances down at yours.

As you turn to walk away, he grabs your shirt by your waist, yanking you towards him and into a kiss, one that has butterflies spinning throughout your chest, limbs melting like butter. Until you feel his fingers slither over your wrist and attempt to pull your phone out of your grasp, lips lingering on yours, do you lean away when you realize he kissed you as a ploy.

“Nice try.” He glares at you and, smirking, you kiss him again. He scowls when you pull away with a grin and turn back around to crawl into bed. As you get comfortable under the covers, news reporters covering some more about the storm, you watch him collect his shirt from the floor and frown at it still being wet. You almost take off his sweater and give it back but you’re so damn comfortable and warm in it that you can’t help but be selfish.

“I have a shirt you can wear,” you offer a little shyly. “You mind handing me my duffle?”

When he nods after a slight pause, he picks it up and sets it on the edge of the bed, waiting for you to dig through and pull out one of your favorite graphic tees. He takes it with a quirk of his brow, staring at the design on the front and you don’t care if he’s judging.

“I’d rather just wear my sweater.”

“I’m wearing it.” Duh. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at the graphics.

“Well, you’re definitely getting this back.” You snort and tell him to hurry up so you can go to bed. You pay him no mind as he trudges away muttering something under his breath. You grab one last thing from the bag, making him turn around with a tap on his elbow.

“Here’s an extra toothbrush. Toothpaste is on the sink.”

He doesn’t look at you as he takes it, murmuring a quiet “Thanks,” and then disappearing into the bathroom.

When he returns, you peer over the headboard to see he’s wearing your shirt, long enough to fall past his waist, partially covering his boxers, and you almost squeal in delight.

“That looks cute on you,” you say as he shuffles towards the table, voice cracking with the threat of laughter, barreling out when he grits “Shut up” and flips you off.

“What? It does!”

He shakes his head in denial and reaches for his phone again, probably checking for his deposit, and with a silly idea, you grab yours to type out a message.

night cutie sent 5:03am

After it sends, you stare at him as his phone buzzes and he picks it up, biting your tongue when he quickly sets it back face down.

“I could block you,” he grumbles as he stands beside the bed, hands on his hips.

“Just like you could’ve pushed me out of the closet? Or like I could make you sleep on the floor?”

His head tilts. “Actually, that might be better for my back.”

“Go right ahead, old man.”

He grimaces and picks up a pillow to land it in your face. Holding it against your chest, you fall back with a giggle.

“C’mon,” you say, patting the bedding beside you. “I don’t bite.”

His eyes narrow, holding out his right arm to present the deep set marks from your teeth in the skin just above his elbow. Your eyes widen in delight. “This begs to differ.”

Rising on your knees, you crawl to him, peering up with a sly smile when he doesn’t resist as you reach for his arm.

“It might bruise.” He shrugs and you tilt your head, analyzing it and experimentally pressing the pad of your thumb against the divots, and he shifts. You blink up to his hooded eyes, the subtle tongue flick on his bottom lip.

“You like that?” you tease, smirking at his lack of denial. “Hm, I got a little masochist on my hands.”

Continuing to press over the marks, you bat mischievous lashes.

“Don’t start, I’m beat,” he says, moving his arm back.

“Aww, is it past your bedtime?”

“That’s getting old.”

“Yeah, like you.” He sighs in exasperation.

“You walked right into that one,” you giggle.

“Just scoot over,” he mutters, shooing you away as he takes the covers you offer and lifts a knee onto the mattress.

“I thought the floor was better for your back.”

“I’m not sleeping on that nasty ass floor.”

You blow a raspberry, heart skipping a beat as you side-eye him situating himself next to you, leaving a significant amount of space between you that you pretend you’re not disappointed by.

“So are you stuck here for the time being?” you find yourself inquiring through a yawn as you turn your attention to the TV.

He sighs, adjusting the pillow under his head. “Until I get paid enough for a plane ticket.”

You stare at his side profile for a moment, debating whether or not you should offer to pay for his ticket, but decide against it, figuring he would say no again.

“You’re welcome to stay here until then,” you pose gently, not taking it to heart when he just gives you a side glance and a single nod.

For a moment, you pensively chew the inside of your cheek.

“Maybe you can drop me off at the airport?”

His eyebrows lift, a mild uptick on the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe.” A blip in your heart conjures up a smile.

“‘Ppreciate it.”

“Mm,” he hums indifferently, turning his head to roll his shoulders and crack his neck.

After turning off the TV and pulling the covers up, your body is drawn to his warmth and you shimmy your way towards him. But just as your head hits his shoulder, he leans away, and you do the same, like you’ve suddenly become magnets of the same polarity. Glancing up to his side eye and clenched jaw, you realize your small action showcasing your desire to be close crossed a boundary of something he’s not comfortable with. You respect it, but you can’t deny that it hurts a little.

“I don’t do that,” he says, no malice in his tone, like he’s just stating a fact.

“Okay,” you murmur, shifting to your side of the bed with guilt crawling through you. “I’m sorry. Night.”

A tiny tug in your chest, you turn on your side, back facing him, and settle into the sheets, closing your eyes and focusing on the rain softly hitting the windows to help lure yourself to sleep.

Just as you’re about to drift off, your eyes fly open as his weight dips behind you, a tentative hand on the dip of your waist, elbow nudging the back of your head. His legs brush behind yours and you don’t react, as if any sudden movement will scare him away. But your heart runs like the wind.

“This is your imagination. Got it?”

Huffing, your smile turns into a grin as you cheekily wiggle back so your body slots ever so lightly against his, ass barely touching his pelvis.

“Since it’s my imagination, I can do this?” you probe, poking your toes between his legs to slide your calves together. He hisses and kicks his feet back.

“Not when your feet are freezing!”

You giggle and he pushes at your hip but doesn’t move away. Finally, he settles and you close your eyes, wishing your heart to not go into overdrive.

“I meant to thank you,” you whisper, disrupting the tranquility. “For everything.” A soft exhale flutters over your scalp. “And I ho-” And then his palm flies up to cover your mouth.

“Please go to sleep.”

Bringing his arm down to curl over your middle, you expect him to move it as you nuzzle into the pillow and close your eyes once again, his face plastered in your mind as you finally succumb to sleep.

His arm pulls you just a bit closer.

When Yoongi wakes up with your head next to his shoulder, it’s light out and you’re fast asleep. You’re stunning, even in slumber. He's exhausted, mostly physically, but the sleep he managed wasn't interrupted by terrors inside his mind or out. For once.

Reaching under his pillow, he panics for a second when his gun isn’t there. Oh, right. He left it in the bushes by the bike. He did well to hide it on him in places you wouldn’t find it, thanks to his quick hands and quicker thinking. He had it tucked in the back of his waistband when he found you in that restaurant, and if he hadn’t gotten a hold of those chopsticks, last night would’ve ended a lot differently. You don’t deserve to see something like that. Something he’s seen and committed countless times - but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. It’ll ruin this whole thing.

He does his best not to disturb you as he maneuvers out of bed, checking his phone first, noting that it’s almost noon. He shakes his head - it’s been a while since he’s slept in like this but you two were up very late last night after all. And you wore him the hell out.

He frowns when there’s no notification of his deposit, just a text from Lin telling him to call, and sighs, gently places his phone back down. He’ll deal with that later.

In the bathroom, he waits until he’s started the shower to turn the lights on, ignoring his reflection as he takes off your shirt and then his delicate, most treasured silver chain, placing it on the corner of the sink to avoid any drains, dog tags swinging on his chest as he steps into the stall.

The warm water gloriously cascading down his chest, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This is something else he’s not accustomed to - showering in the same place where he hooked up with someone. Especially for a second time. He wasn’t lying when he said he’s not the type to stay the night. But it’s different with you. With you, he feels… safe. Like he doesn’t have to run. It’s an odd relief.

Grabbing soap and a cloth, he starts lathering his body, and when he passes over the teeth marks you left on his bicep, his head tilts back with a moan at the slight sting. Propping his hand on the wall, he stares at the nasty bruise blooming on his arm, a smile curling his lips at the memory of your teeth sinking into his skin while you came hard around his cock. He wishes you’d bitten harder. A lot harder. He wouldn’t mind having a scar from that. He’s not sure what that says about him.

He likes the way it hurt, likes it even more that you caught on, paid attention to and cared about what he liked, dragged your teeth along his clavicle, biting sharply into it to drive him to the hardest-hitting orgasm he’s had in a long time. His dick stirs to life thinking about you mouthing and nipping all over his body, making marks on his hip bones, and he craves the opportunity to bury deep in your cunt again and stay there.

There’s a strange tightness in his chest when he thinks about how you’ve made him feel since the moment he fucked you in that closet. Maybe even before that. Maybe when you shoved in his face how much better you are than him at poker. Maybe when you walked into that dingy room with an air of confidence he didn’t expect.

Pretty. Alluring. Badass. Fearless.

Irresistible.

His heart hasn’t raced for someone like this in… well, he can’t remember.

He hangs his head, water dripping down the back of his neck, pouring off of his chin and ends of his hair and he watches it all swirl down the drain.

He needs to get it the fuck together.

As he starts rinsing off, his phone suddenly blares, loud and shrill, and he scrambles out of the shower, haphazardly throwing a towel on his waist, darting out to grab his device from the table.

“Sorry,” he murmurs when he sees you squirming under the sheets, pillow punched over your head to drown out the noise. He squints at the caller ID and his stomach drops, so he quickly answers, whispers “Hang on” into the speaker, and picks up his boxers and robe that you wore on the way to the door, peeking over his shoulder to where you’re settling back into sleep.

“Hello? Suga, you there?” the voice on the other line asks. His friend, Lin, one of the few people he actually trusts, rarely ever calls with good news.

“One sec,” Yoongi mutters as he balances his phone between his cheek and shoulder, dropping the towel and yanking on his boxers. He swings on the robe before propping open the door with his sneaker, peering through the crack to make sure you haven’t gotten up and followed him.

“I don’t have all day, man.”

“What’s up?” he asks, jogging down the stairs in his bare feet. The stone pavement is wet and cold. It smells like more rain.

“You need to get your ass back here because Axe is livid about the deal. He’s blaming you and if you don’t come and fix it, he’s gonna make you pay with your life.”

A cloud fills Yoongi’s lungs. He can’t die. Not yet.

“Is my deposit coming through?”

Lin laughs. “If he’s not cutting our checks, he’s definitely not cutting yours.” Yoongi really, really wants to punch his friend in the nuts for laughing at a time like this.

“I don’t have any fucking money for a plane ticket,” he whisper yells, glancing around to make sure no one is around.

“That’s your problem. You gotta find a way back ‘cause he’s got thugs in Jeju that’ll take care of you for him.”

A stressed hand flies to his hair, fingers tangling and tugging like that’ll make him think of a solution.

“You’re also supposed to be in charge of handling that shipment coming through. Don’t miss it or you’ll really be dead.”

“I won’t,” he promises through gritted teeth. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I hope so.”

The call drops and Yoongi almost throws his phone to crack on the concrete, but he has one more shot at not being totally screwed. He dials another number, eyes closing in relief when it picks up on the fourth ring.

“It’s a little early to be calling,” the familiar male voice chirps. “What can I do for you?”

“Hey, I’m sorry, but do you think- would you mind wiring me an advance? Please?” Fuck, he’s never been one to beg. It’s pathetic. “I’m kind of in a spot right now and my deal in Jeju fell through so I’m not getting any money any time soon. I hate to ask but-”

“Why don’t you have any money?” Shame. Guilt consumes him.

“I lost it gambling.”

“I see.” There’s a pause and Yoongi holds his breath, thinking he just flushed his whole life down the drain. Oxygen whooshes out of his chest when the man he will eventually owe his life to continues.

“Well, you can’t play away all of your money like this, understand? I won’t tolerate having my funds being used to get yourself out of situations that you shouldn’t be in in the first place, especially when you haven’t earned it yet. I’ll let it slide this time but if it happens again, then you’re out. I won’t be able to help.”

He nods solemnly. “I understand.”

“Good. I can’t wire any until tomorrow, but you’ll receive a decent amount to get you through until your next job, okay?”

Fucking shit. He can’t wait that long. He wants to ask if there’s any way he can get enough now for a plane ticket home, but he can’t risk getting out of the good graces of Don Kim’s son.

“Yeah, thank you. And again, I’m sorry.”

“I know. Actually, this might be a way to make up for some of it. My brother isn’t doing so well, and I have to go out of town for a while soon; do you think you can check in on him while I’m gone? I’ve been trying to get him back into boxing and I know he enjoyed doing that with you.”

“Sure. I have some stuff to take care of first though. I’ll head up in the next couple of weeks?”

After he does some damage control and manages a risky deal without ending up dead or in prison, he’ll play babysitter if it means he can keep his secret other job. And his livelihood. Sol may be a troubled kid, but he’s generally easy to get along with. Sometimes when he’s in his better moods, he makes Yoongi think of that kid back home. The kid he’s doing this whole can’t-die-yet thing for.

“Okay, great. Have you gotten anything on Axe that I can use?”

Yoongi looks around again, squats next to a wall and cups his mouth to muffle himself. “He’s planning to intercept a shipment trucking out of Incheon and I think it’s coming from one of your suppliers. You might have a mole.” Oh, the irony.

“Hm, interesting. I just caught a cop working undercover in the harbor, so he’ll have some intel if he knows what’s good for him. Keep me posted.” “I will.”

“And hang in there a little longer, D. We’ll get you out.” God, he hopes so. Yoongi knows these things take time, it’s less dangerous that way, but he’s been trying to get out of this game for years. Well, out of one and into another, but at least this time he’ll have a little more security.

He has to figure out how to scrape his way back home. He slinks back inside while trying to come up with lies and excuses to weasel his way out of this, but it’s hard to come up with ones convincing enough because in the short time that he’s known you, he’s learned you’re smart enough to see right through his bullshit.

He looks over to your bag sitting on the floor, remembering the wallet you stuffed all of your cash in.

Fuck.

He could ask you to spot him enough to get on a plane, but after all the times he adamantly denied it when you offered to give him some back, never anticipating that he wouldn’t get paid, he knows you’ll ask questions that he won’t be able to answer.

He could also just… take some cash and dip out before you wake up. But he really doesn’t want to do that. Doesn’t want to become the person he tried to hide from you. Even though you figured out that he’s a dealer with a habit for getting himself into dangerous situations, you didn’t completely write him off, giving him a chance to show you he’s not entirely a bad person.

But he is. And he’s far, far worse.

He considers it - coming clean to you about everything. Well, at least the part about him being in a tough situation and if he doesn’t make his way back soon, he might as well be dead. He thinks you’ll understand, having gathered that you know about his side of the world, experienced some of it - whether through friends or boyfriends or whomever. Does he think you’re better than that, better than him? Yes. You’ve got shit going for you, more than he’ll ever have. You don’t need someone like him dragging you down. Even though he wants to see you again, wants to run someplace far away with you, he knows he can’t. You deserve a life where you’ll make something of yourself. One that you won’t get with him. But he thinks he can spend just a little more time with you, at least until you have to go to the airport. He’ll take you there, maybe kiss you one last time, and pretend that his heart won’t sink when you turn your back on him. He’s used to being the one to leave. So it hurts like hell to be on the other side.

Maybe that’s just because of you.

He’s conflicted as he returns to where you’re still sleeping. A little of the cloudy afternoon sky has made the room a light gray and despite the regret churning in his gut, he catches himself smiling when he hears you snoring softly. He wants to kiss you again, wonders if he can brush his lips over yours, imagines what you’ll look like waking up to him.

Just as he turns to change, you shift onto your stomach, head still under the pillow, and a small etching on the back of your neck right below your hairline catches his attention. He has yet to put in his contacts, so he carefully sits on the edge of the bed to have a better look, curiosity piqued.

The ink has the shape of something with wings, so he leans a little closer, pressing a fist on the mattress to hold himself up. He expects the wings to be that of an angel, a nod to your name, but when he finally sees what it is, albeit a bit blurry, his heart freezes and plummets to the floor.

It’s a bird, but not one he expected to see on your skin.

A crow.

And it's drawn as if it were flying high in the sky, talons digging into an upside-down human skull.

How did he miss that?! That’s what he gets for always fucking in the dark.

To anyone else, its meaning is ambiguous, edgy, but to him, to others like him, it's the symbol of a direct relation to the family of enormous power, made by generations of blood, money and greed. He would know - he has a tattoo on his back (a tiger, clawing at his shoulder blade) belonging to the gang he got caught up in as a teenager that branded him to force his loyalty. A gang that will be shredded and not missed by the organization that owns the symbol tatted on your neck.

Holy shit. He might throw up. He just fucked the daughter of the country’s mafia kingpin, the sister of the man he was just on the phone with, the one you were probably talking to earlier. If Atlas doesn’t want his mole playing around with his money, he damn sure wouldn’t want him playing around with his sister. If that man found out all that he did with you, Yoongi would die a slow and gruesome death, he’s sure of it.

There’s no way he’d make it out alive. And Yoongi has promises he needs to keep. He can’t do that if he’s sleeping with the fishes.

His stomach clenches, though, thinking about what your reaction will be when you wake up and he’s gone, leaving you with nothing but his sweater.

Because he knows how you looked at him throughout the night, like you felt something for him, like you might want something more than sex. And you not knowing all of his sins, or that there’s nothing he can really offer you, made him feel like he was good enough for you to let him in like you did, to touch you, kiss you, fuck you, just… be with you. In a normal way. Where you weren’t expecting drugs and/or money at the end of it.

With your wit and your charm and your smart goddamn mouth, you managed to knock down a wall that dismantled his normal cold exterior, penetrating a part of him that he’s had to lock away.

(It’s scary how easily you did that. And Min Yoongi doesn’t get scared. Not for himself).

You turned his world upside down in less than a day. For most of his life, he’s been living on the dark side of the moon, but with you, he got to see the sun for a little while. Sharing a meal, staying the night, giving you his number, fucking cuddling with you. You offering him your spare toothbrush when he didn't ask for one. How you got him to do something normal is beyond him. He doesn’t do that because he’s never deserved it.

So who is he kidding?

Because at the end of the day, for someone like him, good things never last. He’s sinful and marred. He’s been to prison, for fucks’ sake. That bike he came to your rescue with, drove you around on - he stole it. Saw the man who parked it, pretended to bump into him, and managed to slip the keys out of his pocket. Granted, you being the reason behind losing all of his money kind of fucked his opportunity for getting around town in an honest, law-abiding way, but he can’t blame you. He severely underestimated you and paid for it. Literally.

He’s a liar and a gambler and a thief, and that’s the tamest part of his sins. He’s had blood on his hands that’s not his. Far too much to ever really wash away. He can’t take the risk of your brother finding out that a crook and a murderer like him messed around with the most precious jewel in that family.

They don’t know his name, and now he’ll make sure they never will.

How can he explain that to you? He knows that makes him a coward.

So he comes to the decision that there's nothing for him to do but leave you in the dust and never look back, tacking this night onto the murky cloud of his many mistakes. Even though it makes his chest hurt. Because he thinks - thought - that he could feel something deep for you, something he was starting to. Maybe even... No. That’s so damn foolish. Someone like him doesn’t deserve to love, much less be loved back. All the more reason to coat his heart in tar, making it impenetrable to him and anyone else.

In the days and weeks and months to come, he'll force it to forget you. He has to. And that will only make him colder and bitter.

Forlorn. He fucking deserves that.

He leaves the robe in a pile next to the bed, quickly and quietly pulling on his jeans, shirt and jacket, and grabs his phone from the table, staring vacantly at your backpack until he comes to the conclusion that he has no other choice. He doesn’t have time to pickpocket or hold up a gas station.

Glancing towards the bed to make sure you haven’t stirred, he reaches into your bag, finds your wallet, swallows down the disgust for himself, and pulls out enough cash that will get him a plane ticket, food that he can stretch over a week, and gas that’ll get him to where he needs to be. Eventually to Incheon. He shoves the wallet back in its place, folds the cash into his jacket, and hauls ass to the door so you don't wake in time to see him disappear without a trace. But in the rush, he forgets the one thing most precious to him that he took off before he showered.

It isn't until he's zipping away on the motorcycle that he’ll ditch on the side of the road, blaming the cold and whipping wind for the tears piercing the corners of his eyes, that he realizes and curses himself. The one thing he was supposed to never lose, to always take care of, he forgot. For the rest of the way home, his mother’s words ring in his ears - he’s a fuck up who’s lost all chances of redeeming himself. No one will want him. So going forth, that's what he carries with him every day when you come up in his thoughts, no matter how hard he tries to keep you out.

Despite what he wanted, he hopes he’ll never see you again.

It's better this way. He did you a favor.

When you wake up, it’s not your empty stomach that makes you feel nauseous.

It’s the frigid, deserted sheets next to you. The quiet, hollow room. The robe on the floor, embedded with the scent of his musk and cigarettes.

Okay. Don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe he stepped out, went to get food or more cigarettes.

But with what money?

So you find your phone, ignoring the disarray of the room as you click on his message thread that holds your text he left on delivered, and start a call.

One ring. Then another. Then a click and you open your mouth to ask him where he is, but instead you’re met with a robotic voice, and your heart drops in disappointment.

“We’re sorry. The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please try again later.”

You shoot confusion at your screen, a cold front moving into your chest from your fingers. You call again.

One ring. Fast heartbeat, bated breath.

Then three ascending beeps. “We’re sorry. The number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please hang up.”

A piece of your soul collapses. Loud ringing blares in your ears as you stare at nothing, as everything sinks in.

What was the point of him giving you his number if he was just gonna block you? What was the fucking point of leading you to believe that he wanted more than just a one night stand if he was going to leave before you woke up?

It takes all of your willpower to not chuck your phone clear across the room, to have the screen crack so you can’t see the numbers he typed in just hours ago, mocking you now that he blocked you.

Now you’re nauseous with embarrassment. Anger. A heart shattered. Made worse by the sweater you’re still wearing, engulfing you with the musk that you’ve been wanting to drown in. You rip it off and throw it on top of the robe, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Once you dare a look in the mirror, it’s his marks all over your skin. The lingering smell of him in the bathroom from the shower he took. The silver chain on the sink that dangled on your throat and on your back when he fucked you like you’ve never been fucked before. The touch of his hands all over you, his mouth on yours that you won’t get rid of for weeks, no matter how hard you scrub. The sound of his voice in your ear, some of his words making things stir in your chest that felt like a prelude to what could’ve been love.

How could you be so stupid?

You’d been so vulnerable and open with him. You feel like you spilled your guts and all he did was pick them up with bare hands, chuck them in the trash, and set it on fire, looking back with no regrets.

After shoving the sweater and chain deep into your duffel, you leave in a flustered hurry, eager to escape the room encapsulating a passage of time that will torment your subconscious. Near the airport, you rush into a pharmacy for a morning after pill, because you’ll be damned if you get knocked up, especially by someone who doesn’t have the fucking decency to say a single word before dipping out after a night like that.

When you get out your wallet to pay, the wad of cash stashed there is significantly lighter. In a bathroom stall, you hastily count out just how much.

Motherfucker took 500,000 won. The betrayal just increased tenfold. He fucking played you.

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to go back in time and make sure this night never fucking happened.

Most of all, you want to call your brother. Because he would hunt Min Yoongi down.

But doing that would mean also telling Jin that you’ve been in Jeju this whole time and that you were gambling, which would not go over well.

So you leave and go back to your life separate from the place now tainted with memories that ruined the good ones.

Fuck him. Fuck him big time for being just like everyone else. And for fucking stealing from you. You know what your father (if he ever really cared) and brothers would say - that's what you get for letting your guard down. Naive and weak-minded people only get themselves hurt. So just like you’ve done countless times, you pick up the pieces of your heart that were stomped and crushed and left for dead, and bury them in the recesses of your mind, keeping all of your pain to yourself. Pain is weakness, especially the kind you can’t see on your skin, and weakness is forbidden in the blood you share with your family. You’ll become hardened and vindictive but maybe now the lesson will stick. Because for the years to come, his eyes, his lips, his touch, his voice, will haunt you in your dreams and your nightmares. You hope to all hell you never see him again.

If you do, he'd better watch his fucking back.

Okay finallyyyyyyyyyyyyy!! i'm sorry this took a hot minute to finish but thank you so much for reading!! I know this has been long winded 🙃

(Btw I’m not super proud of the smut 😅 and not 100% confident in how this turned out which is why it took me so long to post sooo hopefully it’s not all a dumpster fire lol. if it is, lmk but pls be nice about it! Im just a girl)

Pls feel free to drop some thoughts and theories in my inbox or comments! I’m dying to know what y’all think. like no pressure but you'd make my day!! it's literally a serotonin rush whenever i get a comment or an ask lol

xxx - claret

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taglist:

@viankiss @lixies-favorite-cookie @mar-lo-pap @polarnightmyg @jajabro @busanbby-jjk @ktownshizzle @wonh0oe @futuristicenemychaos @rinkud @taegijns @nansasa

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whisperwritingstuff · 17 days ago

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despite nobody asking for it, y'all are now being subjected to my disjointed and rambling thoughts on 3rd life grian and secret life scar being forced to cohabitate in scar's post-win secret life world (like, 99% angst by volume)

secret life scar fully starts out thinking that third life grian is putting on an act in order to get close enough to trap/trick him

they're a complete disaster together, two very different kinds of winners

slscar: Sorry I don't know you. (lie) 3lgrian: [grabbing Scar's cloak and shoving the poppies and lilacs on it into Scar's face]

two lonely idiots with blood on their hands

3l grian feels very normal about sl scar not even Being There when sl grian died

sl scar: I became the kind of vicious red your Game was always meant to create, aren't you proud? 3l grian: [distressed warbles] sl scar: [laughs]

3l grian is Suffering (so is sl scar, he just hides it better)

sl scar pretends he only has memories of secret life, but he actually does semi-remember the other games like a half-forgotten story he'd read once, or a fuzzy fragment of a dream

3l grian becomes obsessed with catching him in lies about this

(sl scar singing in his godawful off-key way to his flowers as he tends them, and it's only days later that 3l grian actually figures out what the intended tune was and that it's one of grian's own songs)

sl scar laying back and reaching up to his sunflowers and silently missing the heat of a hotter sun sl scar's longing catches him quietly, in silences 3l scar would have filled with chatter and babbling 3l grian peering at sl scar all the time all the time forever watching him hanging around in his space sl scar really likes to have his own space and independence 3l grian doesn't like to ever let scar out of his sight they definitely argue about it b/c sl scar feels Smothered by 3l grian being so close all the time this argument just results in 3l grian watching him from like up in the air on a tree on the walls atop trader scar's

yes sl scar takes potshots at him with his bow if he spots 3l grian but b/c they're both certifiably unhinged, they decide this is actually a fun game. one of the tiny bright spots of shared fun between them.

(scar actually hits one of his wing shots, though, and grian crashes out of the sky) (grian wakes up in scar's bed, where scar had treated the wound and is taking are of him) (sl scar desperately doesn't want to be alone again, even though he would die his last life before saying it) (when pressed, he claims that he couldn't stand to lose a paying customer to his shop)

and of course, sl scar carries so many new scars that 3l grian's scar didn't have which ones are worse, the ones 3l grian caused but never got to see heal, or the ones he knows nothing about?

3l grian gets a great view of the pretty scars on sl scar's face, the side of his head, messy split skin healed angry even from so long ago

don't worry though, 3l grian doesn't have to see the ones on sl scar's sides and chest

because sl scar leaves his armor on when 3l grian is around. always.

(Not once. Not once! Not once has Grian had to tell him to put his clothes back on)

He Learned Armor stays on around enemies (and everyone is an enemy)

3l Grian gets very used to hearing the mockingly cheerful refrain "Isn't this what you wanted~?"

and just for one final tiny lil bit of angst

sl scar deeply, desperately wants to preen grian's wings but he doesn't remember how to (3l grian would let him. sl scar never asks.)

#scarian #its mostly angst tho rather than shippy-shippy #rotating thoughts about Them in my brain #desert duo but you're both the wrong people and you got shoved in a sunflower valley together anyway #i know shocking that i didn't find a place to fit cub in #dw there's a silent cub-shaped hole in scar's heart and vex instincts that he never quite figures out #it's just not specifically relevant tho these two being disasters at one another here #alone together in the valley of sunflowers

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cryptid-called-ash · 2 months ago

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2am fnaf au i think someone should write or do art for bc I’m too tired to rn

Post SL, Michael wakes up in a morgue that’s closed for the night. So naturally, he steals a security uniform, wipes his case file and all evidence off the security cameras, and walks out the front door.

Mike later gets a job (as a night guard obviously) at the very same mortuary he woke up in and constantly gaslights the employees who are pretty sure their new colleague is actually the corpse that went missing a couple weeks ago

Chaos ensues as he struggles with ‘living’ in his current situation and tracking down William and righting his wrongs, all while being in a constant state of painful regeneration.

But hey at least Mike got some cool remnant abilities out of this.

Fun things to add:

Cool autopsy scars on top of the scars from Ennard

Mike’s blood goes from red to silver because of the sheer amount of remnant inside of him

Michael and his caffeine and nicotine addictions against the world

scooped Michael with white hair! ScOoPEd MicHAeL WitH WhiTe Hair! SCOOPED MICHAEL WITH WHITE HAIR!!

Au is compatible with multiple ships

Phonemike vers: Ralph has recovered from his near death experience and resigned from Freddy’s, started working at the mortuary as a secretary, and was reunited with the odd coworker he was crushing on, only to get pulled right back into supernatural nonsense

Jeremike vers: similar to above but Jeremy works as a janitor instead of a secretary

Mikrophone vers: Parker is pretty sure the cute British guy who works at the mortuary is actually vampire, and by god is he going to prove it. Hijinks ensue

OcxCanon vers: literally whatever you want bestie, oc content is always a banger

Something else vers: ???????

#mikrophone #phonemike #jeremike #michael afton #fnaf michael afton #mike afton #phone guy #phone dude #jeremy fitzgerald #fnaf au #loosely based off the mortuary assistant #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #please somebody write this #i’m tired #and I think it’s a cool idea #please

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whereispearlescentmoon · 19 days ago

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Man Gross by Penelope Scott is such a Life Series Shiny Duo Song, specifically from a Gem point of view.

Analysis under the cut, warning this song has a lot of cursing:

“It was so easy with you, so salty and gross

Made me feel clean by comparison”

Gem in Secret Life telling Pearl she’s scared of her when she’s red. Her saying Pearl and Scar’s 2v1 was gross. To Gem, Pearl makes Gem look good next to her.

“I'm never gonna feel good again

I've played this game all the way to the end

Look at this stupid little song for you

You're pretty good at this game, too”

Objectively Gem knows Pearl is good at the Life games. She’s won one after all. And she knows she’ll be good at it too, it’s why there’s such a target on her. But both times she has failed to anticipate that Pearl is better than her at playing the game. Not at fighting or killing, but at the game. Because unlike Gem, Pearl isn’t playing offensively, she isn’t challenging people to 1v1s, she isn’t jumping into fights. And that’s frustrating.

“I wish I didn't miss you

Or that I liked you at all

I wish I had the guts to fuck my own life up

I wish I had your set of balls”

Gem is only egging Pearl on because she misses her. She misses that brief moment of connection in Secret Life. She also knows that she’s a target and that makes her allies targets too. It’s why she literally wore one in WL.

“But I'm a chemical compound

I'm just the ring you take off

I'm just the next little girl you fake it with

Before you go, make it work with the one that you love”

Gem was, in her eyes, discarded by Pearl in SL. Sure, they didn’t have a formal alliance, but Pearl and Gem and the Scotts had a friendship. Gem and Pearl had the murder camel. Gem calls Pearl over to her side and Pearl does the same, neither willing to budge. Pearl attacks Gem and says she doesn’t know why she’s doing it. And Pearl makes Scar a Mounder, takes his side, lands a blow on Gem to solidify it. She chooses her team over Gem.

“I wish I never met you

Or that I wanted you still”

Gem doesn’t want to be Pearl’s ally in Wild Life, she makes that clear. She taunts her and threatens her and tells Scott to keep her in line. At every chance that Pearl reaches out, Gem slaps her hand down. But she still remembers their red life spree in Secret Life. She tells Pearl they can be friends when they’re both red. She’s grasping at memories of a dynamic they no longer have.

“I wish I had the guts to fuck my own life up

I wish you'd just come over and kill me”

This one is quite literal. Gem in Wild Life told Pearl she wanted a 1v1 over and over. She doesn’t care if Pearl wins. In fact, she knows Pearl might. She just wants what she believes is a fair fight. She literally stands still and lets Pearl try to kill her in the final session.

“And I don't even resent that

Do you get that I don't even object

I don't mind what you meant

But then how dare you express

Whatever brand of respect this is

When I made sure that we both know I'm a mess”

Pearl may see the fact that she doesn’t do 1v1s as a sign of respect. She’s intimidated by Gem, that’s why she wants to catch her in traps or kill her in a group. But to Gem it’s frustrating. It’s cheap. Pearl is good at PvP, Gem keeps repeating that when they fight on other servers it tends to be 50/50 who wins. Whatever kind of respect Pearl is showing, Gem doesn’t want it.

“I hate it most when they're kind

When they have meaningful lives

And I'm the awful one standing next to them

It was an earnest suggestion, a real connection

Every part of me poses a threat to them”

Pearl does reach out to Gem over and over in Wild Life. Gem knows she’s being unreasonable, that she’s causing drama on purpose. She literally says to Pearl that’s she’s not even that mad about the 2v1, she just wants to make drama (which I think is her trying to look more unaffected than she is). She knows it doesn’t make her look good. That losing that moral high ground means losing her whole argument against Pearl. But she also can’t lose her emotional high ground. It doesn’t make her look good to keep rejecting someone who approaches with open arms. But it does make her look like she’s in control.

“And if you're mean, then they'll laugh

Like they don't understand

If you got it, you would fucking go home, well

Say that you want me still, say I'm just mentally ill

Or I'm just a bitch, but, you'll never know”

This bit makes me think of the RoboPearl conversation. Gem and Joel were literally mocking Pearl to her face and treating her like a dog to be ordered around and Pearl just sat there and beep booped pathetically. It wasn’t until that moment that Gem told Pearl that when they were both red they could have fun again. She needed Pearl beneath her to make the offer.

“But I'm a chemical compound

You're just the gun in my mouth

If you'd stop romanticizing who I am at parties

You'd find your way out”

If Pearl stopped thinking about Gem as the Gem from Secret Life, she wouldn’t keep coming back in Wild Life. If she could see Gem for who Gem is at the moment, someone who doesn’t want her, then she would walk away. But if there’s anything know from Double Life, it’s that Pearl doesn’t give up on her friends that easily.

“I wish I weren't a liar

I wish that I could be kind”

Gem isn’t kind in Secret Life. No one is, but she has a reputation. She’s responsible for most of the server dying because of her Boogey task. It’s why she spends so much of Wild Life trying to make friends. She needs to prove that she can be kind.

“I wish that I could trust you

That things would turn out fine”

And how can Gem trust Pearl again? She thought they had a bond in Secret Life, she thought that being friends was enough. So instead, she pushes her away and tells her to go back to her allies. She won’t be hurt like that again.

“But I'm a chemical compound

I'm just a flash in your hand

And if you don't wanna play, just say so

And you'll never ever see me again”

If Pearl didn’t keep approaching Gem, they probably would have barely talked in Wild Life. She stuck to her little island with Joel and made friends with everyone but the Gs.

#geminitay #pearlescentmoon #shiny duo #secret life smp #wild life smp #this is not intended as a ship post but take it as you will #a reminder that shiny duo is the PLATONIC name for them #cough cough #rambling

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theredch3rry · 5 months ago

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Sigh *sits down while looking at her own ten month old notes* (srry im just a girl who spent too much time analyzing sl!shinyduo) the reason why gem is holding a grudge against pearl isnt because pearl killed her. in fact, gem never refers or implies that pearl killed her, but that she played a part on her death (wording is important here, because what she says is "she 2v1'd me!" nothing more, nothing else). which she did, both directly and indirectly: directly in the "yes she started the attack and swung two times at her, and before that hit her with bow shots" way and indirectly in the "pearl attacking gem send her dogs to target her, dogs that made considerate damage and restricted her movement"

gem doesnt care about who killed her; she doesnt hold anything against scar. she cares that pearl choose his side at the end, and this is were the "gem is actually emotion-driven" little thing that some people are realizing takes part: yes, gem killed pearl two times, the first one was a complete accident because the trap was meant for scar, and the second one is special for multiple reasons. despite them arguing in front of the secret keeper about it, gem doesnt try to hide that she feels guilty about killing pearl, and i believe this is the sign that makes pearl trust her enough to get on the camel.

the experience they had together with the camel made them closer in lengths it shouldnt have. by the end of session 8, pearl stopped caring about her death, she had fully forgiven gem. gem, on the other hand, probably felt closer to pearl than with her own alliance.

and in session 9 it's made clear the lengths that gem was willing to go for whatever-tf they had together. gem doesnt resent pearl for choosing the mounders, gem chose scott and impulse. gem, just like pearl did for her, avoided hitting or attacking pearl for as long as she could; pearl knew that, of course she knew that.

at the end it’s all about perspectives: gem thought that pearl would choose her because of their special bond, after the mounders were gone. ofc that doesn happen, and all gem heard as she was dying was pearl cheering for scar after pearl had swung against her (she doesn’t hear pearl asking in the middle of the battle for more time to think, or her request for a sword fight), after she had asked pearl directly "what are you doing?!" in regards of going against her and all pearl answered with was "i don't know". in her pov pearl betrays her because gem didnt attack until pearl did it, it’s a betrayal in her pov because she thought their bond was one that they could return after trying their best with their alliance. she never gets a better understanding of pearl in the finale because, well, pearl didnt provide her of answers. gem dies and she never knew of pearl's side, so now she harbors a grudge born from the actions and missing words.

(pearl isnt bad for doing what she did, just like how gem is in her rights for feeling hurt over what happened. they were just trying to do what they thought was right)

I love this

#pearlescentmoon #geminitay #life series #secret life #shiny duo

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the-somwthing · 11 months ago

Text

Who wants to see how normal I am, AKA,

EVERY SCOTT AND JOEL MOMENT I CAN REMEMBER OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD IN SEASONS 1-4 (still gotta rewatch SL to get a refresher):

- Joel laments about not having dark oak and having to pay Scar for “future dark oak if they find it” even tho he’s SURE they DO have it, then Scott says that there’s dark oak by his house that Joel can have, and along with Jimmy and Martyn they organize a magic show to take down Scar and Grian’s monopoly.

- Joel burns down Scott’s wall 😁🔥 just to make something else burn like he did

- Scott makes fun of how poorly done the burning of the wall was multiple times before finding out who did it

- Joel also lies about doing it

- Joel also tries to murder Scott with a failed anvil trap at his door 💀

- Scott makes fun of how poorly made this trap was as well. Joel also burns the wall again as he runs away

- btw this isn’t in a super chronological order I sometimes remember things later. Like how technically it was Jimmy who started the “Joeleo oh Joeleo, wherefore art thou Joeleo” thing but Scott DID join in on it so

- also COW HEIST 🥳😅 gone wrong. Joel and Martyn try to steal Flower Husbands’ cows. Make a (very bad) deal with Jimmy to get cows. Try to steal again when Scott’s telling Jimmy not to give away cows. Finally make an ACTUAL deal. Make fun of Joel and Martyn having a tough time getting the cows up the cliff.

- Ren: “we have banners all over the server, if you joined us we could easily pinch the middle” Scott: “so Joel? 🤩” Martyn: “BTW Joel’s already with us” Scott: “so we can’t pinch Joel, dang it 😔😒”

- Scott (and Jimmy) threatening to kill Joel’s dogs 💀😁

- Scott making fun of the red army for Joel betraying them

- Scott being willing to forgive Joel for the burning of the wall if he can do them a favor sometime (to which Joel immediately offers 13 cobblestone)

- Scott making a little secret storage area for potions for everyone in the desert faction MINUS Joel because he doesn’t trust him

- OH ALSO Scott mostly just being upset at Joel for LYING about burning his wall

- Scott burning down the wool castle and saying “maybe I do understand why Joel burned my wall. This is very freeing.”

- The fire spreading to Geraldine who was unfortunately left behind, Scott ALMOST saves her before deciding that Joel deserves it

- Scott stopping by Joel’s house and Joel shows up. They talk and decide that they’re allies and won’t come after each other

- Joel gives Scott a house tour

- He also shows Scott his dogs where Scott confesses to burning the castle and causing Geraldine’s death. Joel is sad but says it’s okay

- Also they mention that Jimmy died and Joel goes “I’m glad he died JUST KIDDING we love you Jimmy 🥺😔😭”. I don’t know what to say about this.

- Oh also at some point Joel says (about the roof above his bed being missing) that he likes to look at the stars as he sleeps. This one is a huge stretch and goes into fanon territory with Scott being connected with the stars but it’s a fun fact nonetheless.

- also love the energy of Joel excitedly showing off his dogs to Scott and Scott being like “that’s cool *chuckles nervously*”

- When they’re doing war strategies Scott would often pair himself with Joel. Just sayin.

- Scott, Scar, and Grian are on that stupid platform above Dogwarts. Joel is below them inside Dogwarts with all his dogs. Grian suggests dropping some TNT down onto him to essentially deal with the problem before it becomes their problem (they’re all terrified of Joel and kind of want him to die despite being on their side so that they don’t have to face him when they win the war). Scott gasps at this and seems to want to argue but the logic is sound and he also wants revenge on Joel, so he just covers his eyes but like this 🫣 and says “I can’t watch”. Ultimately they don’t do it.

- Scott and Joel both really want to kill BigB (the last green) and they go together and kill him 🥰

- Once again Scott pairs himself with Joel to attack Ren and Martyn. Bdubs and Impulse volunteer to tag along but end up retreating before being killed like the others.

- Scott is upset that Joel died but also refers to his death as a “slight ‘woo’!” because of the revenge and previously mentioned fear of having to fight him when they’re no longer on the same side

- Scott takes some of Joel’s stuff and declares that his death won’t be in vain

- It was in vain he died again 💔 THEY DIED IN BATTLE TOGETHER AT THE HANDS OF THE SAME KING THEY SPAT IN THE FACE OF 🥰

- Scott is nervous about being Joel’s neighbor in Last Life. And Scar’s for that matter

- After many failed boogey attempts, Joel comes crawling to Scott’s house for one last shot, pretending that Mumbo was the boogeyman and killed him for THAT reason.

- Joel compliments the house (poking fun at Pearl for making Scott do all the work after finding out she didn’t build any of it) and gets them to invite him inside

- He blocks the exit and starts attacking Pearl. He only switched to killing Scott because he was defending her like a boss. He kills Scott and gets cured, but Scott’s like “PEARL, KILL HIM!!” so yeah.

- They get the enchanting table off his dead body and make fun of him for having that on him while trying to kill people, and they keep it as a reward

- I don’t have the memory to be so descriptive. Joel targets Scott’s base many times, the TNT minecart door trap, the trap at the gate that actually worked, blowing up his roof with minecarts, attempting to grief his water elevator, surrounding the base in walls of lava…

- Scott tells Lizzie that her husband keeps trying to murder him. She says that he does that to her, too, and it’s “a sign that he loves you”. Scott says “oh” and IMMEDIATELY moves on

- Scott kills Joel at the end 😁 As a desperate attempt to get them to not kill him Joel yells “TEAM?” lmao

- start of Double Life they run the same direction at the beginning and kind of yell at each other before finally managing to go separate ways

- Scott of course makes fun of Joel’s death because of the way he and Etho were acting. Not to Joel’s face tho.

- Scott compliments the Relation Ship multiple times

- Scott visits the Relation at some point when Joel is there and just vents to him about Pearl. Joel sympathizes with him.

- Multiple times Scott says that he thinks the Boat Boys are good

- Joel kills Pearl but like Scott had nothing to do with that despite also dying

- Scott burns down the Relation cuz he felt like it 😁🔥

- Joel wants Scott dead soso bad

- Joel kills Scott with a rocket while Scott tries to hit him with a bucket of water. 🥰💀

- Then um there was something about a nether portal trap uh for some reason Joel’s not here anymore guess we move on to next season

- After the boogey reroll Scott hears Joel complain about not being boogeyman and says “good to know it’s not you!”

- They go into a ravine cave together. They both saw an emerald ore but Scott mines it

- Joel asks where the emerald is and Scott says he mined it and asks if Joel wanted it. He says yes and Scott gives him the emerald. He calls it an Emerald Of Trust.

- Joel thinks it’s really nice and gives Scott a piece of bamboo in return, which Scott is happy about.

- They are stuck bonding in the stupid cave together because neither of them have much food except Scott’s cooking kelp and sharing it with Joel, so they have to wait for the kelp to cook, split it between the two of them, eat it (NOT FILLING AT ALL), and heal, just a very long process.

- Eventually Joel feels ready to leave and get better food.

- Next time Scott sees Joel, he’s with Jimmy and apparently they are now bad boys

- He watches as Joel washes away carpet like a real bad boy

- As Scott leaves Joel begs him to tell everyone that he and Jimmy are bad boys (this is one that I remember from Joel’s POV, pretty much the only thing on the list that isn’t Scott’s POV lol well actually there was probably another)

- Scott decides to live in the ocean. Joel is upset because HE wanted to live in the ocean.

- Scott watches Joel kill TIES cow for the second time

- While having a hashtag flower husbands moment Scott helps trying to put out the fire on the mansion (too late tho nobody could stop THAT)

- oh I almost forgot. After making his island Scott puts a chest on it to “dump random junk he doesn’t need to keep on him” and AS HE SAYS THIS he hovers over the bamboo Joel gave him and doesn’t put it in the chest. I know it’s moreso because it’s a resource but like.

- Also we all know what ended up happening with that bamboo gift! It surrounds the Coral Isles!

- Anyways Scott needs some carpet for his farm so he goes to the bad boys to ask for carpet. Grian and Jimmy tell him to strike a deal with Joel since he’s the one who has all the carpet. Scott walks over to Joel and says “remember when we bonded in the cave?” and Joel hands him the carpet. Scott says “yay 🥳 good boys! 🥰” and the bad boys are horrified, tell him to never say that again they are BAD BOYS and make him leave.

- (also may be worth mentioning that from what I can tell, Joel didn’t have that carpet on him, and actually ran to grab it as soon as Scott asked)

- god that ^ was all session one. ANWYAYS Joel asks people for gold and in exchange they can have unlimited bread. Scott and Impulse give Joel gold.

- At some point Scott goes to collect some free unlimited bread. Grian and Jimmy stop him like “WHAT are you doing ✋🤨 only IMPULSE has unlimited bread” and Scott says “no I have it too go ask Joel” so they go to Joel and say “WHAT is this about SCOTT having unlimited bread…” and Joel just goes “yup Scott gets unlimited bread 👍” so Scott collects his bread while the other bad boys are just so disappointed in Joel

- Now is where I lost track of the timeline, but I remember once or twice Scott would just be talking usually to himself like “the bad boys are truly the good boys of the server 🥰😇”

- Despite this Scott eventually becomes scared of Joel because he did the math and realized that he’s got so many allies who won’t attack him, and the people who aren’t his allies would likely be too scared to attack Scott EXCEPT Joel.

- And Scott was spot on because he was just chilling when out of nowhere Joel just charges at him yelling “SCOTT YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT” and of course after a little more chasing “SCOTT YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN STUPID”

- Scott manages to get away and thinks that Joel’s lines were really funny and pathetic and is no longer afraid of him

- Bad Boys try to trap Mean Gills’ secret bed but they get foiled

- The usual Joel wants to kill Scott really bad

- Scott’s like “we have to eliminate Joel” and gets the Clockers to help because he killed them

- Joel is terrified the entire time lmao. I remember “then why is your voice higher pitched?” “BECAUSE IM SCARED” “that’s what I thought” as he lets Joel get away ahahdg

- OH I ALMOST FORGOT Scott letting Jimmy kill him for time and Joel trying to steal the kill cuz lol.

- Back to Scott terrifying Joel. That one time he tells Joel to leave Scar alone and Joel just goes “..ok”

- And then of course Scott kills Joel again 🥳😍 surely this won’t happen again 💀

- OTHER THING I FORGOT TO MENTION CUZ IM MOSTLY GOING OFF MY MEMORY OF THE MORE RECENTLY WATCHED SCOTT POV Joel always destroying Scott’s walls cuz tradition.

So yeah this was all just off the top of my head without looking at anything. I’d love to make a new version when I rewatch SL and/or Joel’s POVs. This proves that I’m normal right

#trafficblr #life series #3lsmp #llsmp #dlsmp #limlsmp #life series scott #life series joel #scottishbeans #majorbeans #< but this post isn’t technically shipping it’s just. canon moments.

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bamsara · 2 years ago

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Hello

I was wondering where in the time line of the galaxy days/ cryptids series does dib learn what the Pak Zim gave him actually does?

Also maybe we get to see stich (IZ or SL) in a Halloween costume next month. I miss stitch.

Major Spoilers for Paklet AU since this was drafted for the written story but the chapter it belongs to isn't finalized or published anywhere

AFTER Galaxy Days was supposed to be another installment which would have been the last/second to last depending on the length, which would have brought upon the Intergalactic War against the Irken Empire and when Zim would have given both Dib and Gaz their Paklets.

Dib gets, uh, stabbed. Just like he was with the ghoul. You know. Really bad. Right through the gut. Yep. The kind that kills a human very quickly.

I won't tell you who does it or how he gets skewered because that's a major plot thing there, but I need you to know that the incident with the ghoul that started all this is how ends too.

✨It was foreshadowing all along✨ Or history just repeats itself when you learn nothing about taking up out-of-league battles you're far too confident, or emotionally invested about.

However despite the obvious and what is surely a catastrophic injury, Dib does not die though! Weird! It's almost as if there was something uh, keeping that from happening. It is REALLY not normal to stay alive after you get mutilated like that, much less heal within hours without so much as a scar.

Not gonna go into detail, but he figures out that the weird 'friendship' bracelet that Zim promised was just a signifier of their truce that prevented his death, and he has to figure out the extent of it all on his own because Zim isn't exactly available for him to confront about it.

(Also I might draw something for Stitch tbh, either in a Moon costume or a Gir Onsie)

#paklet au #ceatpeotw

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life-winners-liveblog · 1 year ago

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Since a couple people are asking. could you.. describe how you view the winners’ appearances? Like the injuries and outfits maybe, me personally will figure it out from there cause I too wanna make fanart of this ✨

Also if you want, you could include some of the others like SL! Or LimL!Jimmy, DL!Scott & 3L!Scar 👀 /nf

-winners-

3L!Grian- Constantly bleeding from hi head, at this point in time the wound is covered by bandages and his hair. He has 2 purple wings one of which is bent and halfhazardly bandaged as well. For clothing either the classic red sweater (or the orange sun sweater) + a brown poncho... Eyes should be purple but sometimes have a red sheen.

LL!Scott: Start with Last Life Scott, add a star crown, lightning scars on his arms and neck and make his eyes kinda glowy and red or cyan in color whatever you prefer... That's about it.

DL!Pearl: Wears her Scarlet Pearl outfit except the hood has like crescent moons on it. She has a heart shaped burn on her shoulder (kinda unlikely you will need to know that for a drawing but who knows) and her fingers are a little blue... Her eyes are green but sometimes go red.

LimL!Martyn: Missing his left ear, there is no scar or anything It's just not there, only one whose eyes are still red constantly. Wears his mean gills fanon outfit and has coral growing on him.

-others-

LimL!Jimmy: Wears bad boy outfit glasses included and has 2 golden wings one of which is a bit burnt because of the tnt minecart exploding, before the enderian-ification his right eye was completely white like no iris or anything but now It's completely purple like that of an enderman ...he also has ender particles around him now.

3L!Scar: Still has gray skin but the color scheme of his clothes has changed completely. The brown of his pants, shoes and hat has been replaced by a very dark purple and his poncho is white and purple (normal not dark) with a repeating eye shape pattern. Ironically only one without wounds as the Watchers healed him.

DL!Scott: Just Double Life Scott except for 3 things, the cloud of explosion smoke that surrounds him, the glowing string (the soulbound) around his neck and his almost gray eyes.

SL!Jimmy: Similiarly to LimL!Jimmy he has two golden wings, the difference being that his are completely unhurt... his shoulder is covered in sculk but it doesn't seem to do anything.

[redacted]: gray skin, gray hair, the only color that can be found is the ////// of his sweater and the //// in his hands.

#asks #trafficblr #traffic series #author answers #character description

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thecoolerliauditore · 5 months ago

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shaking your hand shaking your hand. wild life spoilers below

i dont think i liked this one. im not sure im the biggest fan of the mechanics this season in general, since both of the last two episodes havent left them much time to do anything but... run around, scream, and die for most players. first episode was fun, they had time to do things. i dont feel the same about 2 and 3. people still dont even have bases? going in to the fourth episode? really?

in all fairness with the base thing, joel+gem, skizz+mumbo+grian and bigb pretty much have finished bases. I'd still count Bigb's base as his base despite him joining GGGG just cus of the psychological impact it had on me. The parrots aren't exactly a base but them + the cute little meeting area Scar made this episode I would constitute as base-y enough.

BET would've had bases by now if Etho wasn't serious about the copper thing and Scar didn't burn Tango's tower down. And GGGG + Bigb moved away in the middle of building theirs.

Don't get me wrong the gimmicks are definitely doing a number on their productivity overall but they're not. Thatttt slow imo I reckon we'll get finished bases next episode for sure unless Bdubs blows up eight times.

That being said. Yeah.

The food task I did enjoy because I didn't feel like it crossed a line in terms of intrusiveness, once you trial and error'd your way into a safe food you were pretty much good to go. It was also balanced better imo so the RNG didn't feel too awful.

The snails though? No way to deal with them other than to give them your full attention or even slow it down in any meaningful way. I wish they just like. broke through blocks a little more slowly or something so that you could theoretically trap them in a hole and have the peace of mind to do something else for like a minute or two.

The balancing is also just. yeah kind of gross to watch. Lots of those deaths felt unfun and at worst frustrating. If I was Bdubs or Bigb I'd be a little bit annoyed.

I've been saying this since LimL/SL that I'm not the biggest fan in the world of the direction the series has taken from a more slow-paced survival series to being more gimmicky but I also respect it cus I understand why Third Life 2 wouldn't have the most hype behind it. Still though sighs. I miss the Stanford Prison Experiment In Minecraft days I really do.

#asks

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fogwitchoftheevermore · 1 year ago

Text

Assigning Every Fall Out Boy Song to The Life Series

because i'm a normal person with normal person feelings about fall out boy's discography and the life series. trust me.

“every” is a strong word here because fall out boy's discography is Literally Like 150+ Songs so i’m only doing the songs off their main 8 albums in this post. if enough people ask (which i seriously doubt will happen), i’ll do the eps+remixes as well.

sorry if there is an overabundance of certain characters/a lack of certain characters. i tried to include people are frequently as possible but a: i am inherently biased (though some of my faves are pretty underrepresented), b: not everyone has the same amount of content to draw from because they haven't all been in every season and c: some of these guys are simply not fall out boy characters to me. it's just how it is.

so, under the cut will be, in release order, every fall out boy song assigned to a life series character/event+the lyric that i think best represents why i assigned it.

TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE

Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today: DL!Pearl

To my favorite liar, to my favorite scar (to my favorite scar!)/I could have died with you/I hope you choke on those words that kiss that bottle/Confess (so bury me in memory)

Dead on Arrival: SL!Gem and Pearl (Gem POV)

This is side one, flip me over/I know I'm not your favorite record/The songs you grow to like never stick at first/So I'm writing you a chorus, and here is your verse/No, it's not the last time, 'cause I'd never say no to you/This conversation's still dead on arrival/And there's no way to talk to you/When you're dead on

Grand Theft Autumn / Where Is Your Boy: DL!Etho (JUST TRUST ME. AND ALSO GO WATCH THE BIT WHERE FINDS OUT BDUBS+IMPULSE ARE SOULMATES)

When I wake up/I'm willing to take my chances on/The hope I'd forget that you hate him more than you notice/I wrote this for you (for you, so…)/You need him, I could be him/I could be an accident, but I'm still trying/And that's more than I can say for him/Where is your boy tonight?/I hope he is a gentleman

Saturday: SL!Gem

Pete and I attacked the laws of Astoria with promise and precision/And mess of youthful innocence/And I read about the afterlife, but I never really lived/More than an hour (More than an hour)/When I say/Two more weeks, my foot is in the door, yeah/I can't sleep, in the wake of Saturday

Homesick at Space Camp: Post 3L!Skizz

Tonight is all about "We miss you" now/These friends are, new friends are golden

Sending Postcards From a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here): Post DL!Joel

Every friend we ever had in common/I will sever the tie, sever the tie with you/You can thank your lucky stars/Everything I wish for will never come true/When you go, I will forget everything about you

Chicago Is So Two Years Ago: LimL!Martyn

You want apologies, girl, you might hold your breath/Until your breathing stops forever, forever/The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips/I hope they taste of me forever

The Pros and Cons of Breathing: DL!Pearl

Woah, I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself/You know that I could crush you with my voice/Stood on my roof and tried to see you/Forgetting about me/Hide the details/I don't want to know a thing

Grenade Jumper: The Heart Foundation

They'll say it's not worth it, so we'll leave this town in ruin/Living like life's going out of style, and you came to watch us play/Like a "big shot talent", but at the end of the day you know/Woah, those busted lips we take back home

Calm Before The Storm: DL!Ren

You said/Between your smiles and regrets/"Don't say it's over"/Dead and gone, dead and gone, yeah

Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over: DL!Jimmy and Tango

I can't wake up to these reminders of who I am/A failure at everything, 18 going on extinct/I know my place, it's nowhere you should roam

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes: SL!Jimmy

I'm all ears and I'm all scars/To hear you tell me, "Boys like you, you try too hard/To look not quite as desperate," I'm hanging on/But I still know the way to make your makeup run/So, and when it all goes to Hell, will you be able to tell/Me "sorry" with a straight face?

FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE

Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued: 3L!Impulse

We're only liars but we're the best (We're the best)/We're only good for the latest trends/We're only good 'cause you can have almost famous friends/Besides, we've got such good fashion sense

Of All The Gin Joints In All The World: 3L!Ren and Martyn

You only hold me up like this/'Cause you don't know who I really am/Sometimes I just want to know what it's like to be you

Dance, Dance: DL!Bigb and Ren (Ren perspective, also this is specifically applicable most antagonistic moments of their relationship we get, to be clear. This is not the usual approach I take to them.)

You always fold just before you're found out/Drink up it's last call/Last resort, but only the first mistake, and I/I'm two quarters and a heart down/And I don't want to forget how your voice sounds/These words are all I have so I'll write them/So you need them just to get by/Why don't you show me a little bit of spine/You've been saving for his mattress, love

Sugar, We’re Goin Down: Martyn

We're going down, down in an earlier round (Take aim at myself)/And sugar, we're going down swingin' (Take back what you said)/I'll be your number one with a bullet (Take aim at myself)/A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner: LL!Cleo

I keep my jealousy close/'Cause it's all mine/And if you say this makes you happy, then I'm not the only one/Lyin'

I’ve Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Songs): Joel

Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of "best friends"/We're the kids who feel like dead ends/And I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses/I took a shot and didn't even come close

7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen): LimL!Grian

Sitting out dances on the wall/Trying to forget everything that isn't you/I'm not going home alone/'Cause I don't do too well on my own

Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year: SL!Skizz

We're the therapists pumping through your speakers/Delivering just what you need/We're well-read and poised/We're the best boys/We're the chemists who've found the formula/To make your heart swell and burst/No matter what they say/Don't believe a word

Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends: DL!Joel and Etho

Strike us like matches, 'cause everyone deserves the flames/We only do it for the scars and stories, not the fame/At least everyone is trying, everyone is shining/Everyone deserves the flames but it's such a shame, such a shame

I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me: Scott

I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends/And I am sorry my conscience called in sick again/And I've got arrogance down to a science/Oh, and I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends, now

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More “Touch Me”: LL!BigB

I confess, I messed up/Dropping "I'm sorry" like you're still around/And I know you dressed up/"Hey, kid, you'll never live this down"/And you're just the girl all the boys wanna dance with/And I'm just the boy who's had too many chances/I'm sleepin' on your folks' porch again, dreamin'/She said, she said, she said, "Why don't you just drop dead?"

Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows): DL!Grian and Scar (Scar POV)

I know this hurts, it was meant to (it was meant to)/Your secret's out and the best part is it isn't even a good one/And it's mind over you don't, don't matter

XO: LL!Mumbo (Look, this is a stretch, I'll be real, but this song was giving me so much fucking trouble. Let me live.)

To the "love," I left my conscience/Pressed between the pages of/The Bible in the drawer, "What did it ever do for me"/I say/It never calls me when I'm down/Love never wanted me, but I took it anyway/Put your ear to the speaker and choose love or sympathy/But never both, love never wanted me

Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers: SL!Tango

Here's a picture with a note, "No, don't turn out like me"/It's only for your own good/No-oh, oh, oh/And haven't you heard, the word on the street is/"I lost it, called it quits," get out into the sun

The Music Or The Misery: LL!Bdubs and Etho (Etho perspective)

I got your love letters, corrected the grammar and sent them back/It's true, romance is dead, I shot it in the chest then in the head/And if you wanna go down in history then I'm your friend/Because they've got me in a band where I've never seen a heart I couldn't break

INFINITY ON HIGH

Thriller: SL!Scar

Last summer, we took threes across the board/But by fall, we were a cover story, "Now in stores"/Make us poster boys for your scene/But we are not making an acceptance speech

“The Take Over, The Breaks Over”: LimL!Cleo

Wouldn't you rather be a widow than a divorcee?/Style your wake for fashion magazines, oh-oh-oh/Widow or a divorcee?/Don't pretend, d-d-d-don't pretend/We do it in the dark with smiles on our faces/We're trapped and well concealed in secret places/We don't fight fair

This Ain’t A Scene. It’s An Arms Race: SL!Scar

I am an arms dealer/Fitting you with weapons in the form of words/And don't really care which side wins/Long as the room keeps singing/That's just the business I'm in

I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You): SL!Jimmy and Martyn

We're the new face of failure/Prettier and younger, but not any better off/Bulletproof loneliness/At best, at best

Hum Hallelujah: LL!Cleo

I thought I loved you, it was just how you looked in the light/A teenage vow in a parking lot/'Til tonight do us part/I sing the blues and you swallow them too/My words are my faith, to hell with our good name

Golden: Joel (LimL especially, but also just in general)

How cruel is the golden rule/When the lives we lived are only golden-plated?/And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me/Though I carried carats for everyone to see/And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies/And all the lovers with no time for me/And all of the mothers raise their babies/To stay away from me

Thnks fr th Mmrs: LimL!BigB and Pearl

Been looking forward to the future/But my eyesight is going bad/And this crystal ball…/It's always cloudy except for (Except for…)/When you look into the past (Look into the past…)/One night stand…/One night stand off!

Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?: LimL!Skizz

They say quitters never win/But we walk the plank on a sinking ship/There's a world outside of my front door/That gets off on being down/Oh-oh, oh-oh/I could learn to pity fools as I'm the worst of all/And I can't stop feeling sorry for myself, whoa-oh

The (After) Life Of The Party: Scar, again. I don't know what to tell you, this is a very Scar album.

I'm a stitch away from making it/And a scar away from falling apart, apart/Blood cells pixelate and eyes dilate/And the full moon pills got me out on the street at night

The Carpal Tunnel Of Love: LL!Mumbo and Jimmy

Tired yawns for fawns on hunter's lawns/We're the has-beens of husbands/Sharpening the knives of young wives/Take two years and call me when you're better

Bang The Doldrums: DL+LimL!Jimmy and Tango

The tombstones were waiting, they were half-engraved/They knew it was over, they just didn't know the date…/And I cast a spell over the west to make you think of me/The same way I think of you/This is a love song in my own way/Happily ever after below the waist/Best friends, ex-friends 'til the end/Better off as lovers

Fame > Infamy: LL!Joel

I am God's gift, but why would he bless me with/Such wit without a conscience equipped/I'm addicted to the way I feel when I think of you, whoa/There's too much green to feel blue

You’re Crashing, But You’re No Wave: This is far from the only FOB song about a sensitive topic but it's one of the like... two that I don't feel comfortable assigning to something.

I’ve Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers: DL!BigB

You're a canary, I'm a coal mine/'Cause sorrow is just all the rage/Take one for the team/You all know what I mean/And I'm so sorry but not really/Tell the boys where to find my body

G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: DL!Impulse and Bdubs

Trade baby blues for wide eyed browns/I sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house in your shoes/You know, it's strange/It's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you/I'm supposed to love you/I've already given up on myself twice/Third time is the charm, third time is the charm/Threw caution to the wind, but I've got a/Lousy arm

It’s Hard To Say “I Do”, When I Don’t: Am I allowed to say this is a Watchers song? I don't care I'm saying it.

I speak fast and I'm not gonna repeat myself, no/So listen carefully to every word I say/I'm the only one who's gonna get away/With making excuses today/You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have

FOLIE A DEUX

Disloyal Order Of Water Buffaloes: Impulse

Oh, I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine/What a match, I'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet/So boycott love, detox just to retox/And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life

I Don’t Care: LL!Fairy Fort

Let the leaves fall off in the summer/And let December glow in flames (In flames; oh)/Erase myself and let go/Start it over again in Mexico/These friends, they don't love you/They just love the hotel suites now

She’s My Winona: SL!Martyn

We didn't come to compete, this is a demonstration/Even the young ones become irrelevant/They always bring up how you've changed

America’s Suitehearts: SL!Gem

Let's hear it for America's suitehearts, but I must confess/I'm in love with my own sins/You can bow and pretend that/You don't, don't know you're a legend, oh/Time, time, time hasn't told anyone else yet

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet: LimL+SL!Cleo, Bdubs, and Etho

Does your husband know the way that/The sunshine gleams from your wedding band?/Does he know the way, does he know the way/Of the crickets that would convince me to call it a night?/But I will never end up like him/Behind my back, I already am

The (Shipped) Gold Standard: LimL!Bdubs

All the yes-men said "No comment"/My mouth got going/The wrong way, and all the calls started snowing/The time my dad caught me a horseshoe crab/And I asked him if throwing it back into the sea would bring our luck back/I wanna scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs/But I'm afraid that someone else will hear me

(Coffee’s For Closers): LL!BigB

Though change will come, oh, change will come/I will never believe in anything again/We will never believe again/Kick drum beating in my chest again/No, we will never believe again/Preach electric to a microphone stand, oh

What A Catch, Donnie: This song is a compilation of different vocalists from bands associated with the band, a compilation of previous songs of theirs, and one of the only FOB ballads. I can't pull a specific lyric, but this one could be solidly used for a compilation/retrospective of every season so far.

27: This is the other one I don't feel comfortable assigning to anything. Moving on.

Tiffany Blews: SL!Lizzie

I'm not a crybaby/I'm the crybaby/A caterpillar that got stuck/Mr. Moth, come quick with any luck/A long walk to a dark house/A Roman candle heart, keep us far apart/I'm cocktail party doin' alright, hate me baby/Maybe I'm a piece of art/Oh, my friends all lie and say/They only want the best wishes for me

w. a. m. s.: LL!Mumbo

I'm a young one stuck in the thoughts/Of an old one's head/When all the others were just stirrin' awake/I'm tryin' to trick myself to fall asleep again, whoa

20 Dollar Nose Bleed: Dogwarts

When I look at the man who would be king, the man who would be king/Goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed/Came back with flags on coffins and said, "We won, oh, we won"/Permanent jet lag, please take me back (Please take me back)/Please take me back, (ooh, ooh)/I'm a stray dog sick, please let me in

West Coast Smoker: SL!Joel

Wishes bounce me weightless/The infrared scope on pointlessness/The bulls are sedated/And this fight's fixed

Pavlove: SL!Tango

Something make my chest stir/Something make my head blur/Oh, oh, I'm not ready for a handshake with death, no/Oh, oh, I'm just such a happy mess, whoa

SAVE ROCK AND ROLL

The Phoenix: Team TIES

Bring home the boys in scraps, scrap metal the tanks/Get hitched, make a career out of robbing banks/Because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks/"You broke our spirit," says the note we pass

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light Em Up): LL!Cleo

I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see/That you're the antidote to everything except for me/Through a constellation of tears on your lashes/Burn everything you love then burn the ashes

Alone Together: The Roomies (Cleo, Etho, and Grian)

I don't know where you're going/But do you got room for one more troubled soul?/I don't know where I'm going/But I don't think I'm coming home/And I said, "I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead"/This is the road to ruin and we're starting at the end

Where Did The Party Go: LL!Tango

I'm here to collect your hearts/It's the only reason that I sing/I don't believe a word you say/But I can't stop listening

Just One Yesterday: LL!Bdubs and Etho

If heaven's grief brings hell's rain/Then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday/(I know I'm bad news)/For just one yesterday/(I saved it all for you)

The Mighty Fall: DL!Divorce Quartet

Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme and I'm dizzy on dreams/(And I'm dizzy on dreams)/But if you ask me two's a whole lot lonelier than one/Baby, we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it/(Gutter where we found it)/'Cause you think, you think your only crime is that you got caught

Miss Missing You: Impulse and Bdubs (Impulse POV)

Baby, you were my picket fence, I miss missing you now and then/Chlorine kissed summer skin, I miss missing you now and then/Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger/The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger/Oh, we're fading fast, I miss missing you now and then

Death Valley: This is the soundtrack to the LL Battle Royale Finale

We're going to die, it's just a matter of time/Hard times come, good times go/I'm either gone in an instant/Or here 'til the bitter end, I never know

Young Volcanoes: The Heart Foundation

C'mon, make it easy, say I never mattered/Run it up the flag pole/We will teach you how to make boys next door/Out of assholes (Hahaha!)/Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds/It's all over now

Rat A Tat: LL!Grian and Mumbo (mostly Grian POV)

But I'll take your heart served up two ways/I sing a bitter song/I'm the lonelier version of you/I just don't know where it went wrong

Save Rock And Roll: DL!Pearl

I cried tears you'll never see/So fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean, and leave me be/You are what you love, not who loves you/In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream/No, no (No, no)/Wherever I go, go (go, go)/Trouble seems to follow

AMERICAN BEAUTY/AMERICAN PSYCHO

Irresistible: SL!Gem and Pearl (Gem POV)

Count me in unannounced, drag my nails on the tile/I just follow your scent/You can't just follow my smile/All of your flaws are aligned with this mood of mine/Cutting me to the bone/Nothing left to leave behind/You ought to keep me concealed just like I was a weapon/I didn't come for a fight but I will fight till the end/This might be your battle, might not turn out okay/You know you look so Seattle, but you feel so LA

American Beauty/American Psycho: LL!Scott

I think I fell in love again/Maybe I just took too much cough medicine/I'm the best worst thing that hasn't happened to you yet/The best worst thing/You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out/You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out/And you can kill me, kill me or let God sort ‘em out

Centuries: LimL!Martyn

And I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name/Cause I was only born inside my dreams/Until you die for me, as long as there's a light, my shadow's over you/Cause I am the opposite of amnesia

The Kids Aren’t Alright: The Mounders

It twists my head just a bit to think/All those people in those old photographs I've seen are dead/And in the end/I'd do it all again/I think you're my best friend

Uma Thurman: 3L!Cleo

You'll find your way/And may death find you alive/Take me down the line/In Gem City, we turn the tide

Jet Pack Blues: Impulse and Bdubs

Honey, don't you leave/Don't you remember how we used to split a drink?/It never mattered what it was, I think/Our heads were just that close/The sweetness never lasts, you know

Novocaine: Guess what, it's Joel again. I'm not even a Joel main why is this happening.

In the truly gruesome do we trust/I will always land on you like a sucker punch/Singing I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare

Fourth Of July: LL!Lizzie and Cleo (Lizzie POV)

I said I'd never miss you/But I guess you never know/May the bridges I have burned/Light my way back home on the fourth of July/I wish I'd known how much you loved me/I wish I cared enough to know

Favorite Record: Post DL!Jimmy

You were the song stuck in my head/Every song that I've ever loved/Play it again and again and again/And you can get what you want but it's never enough

Immortals: 3L!Grian and Scar

I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, glass (Glass)/(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)/Oh, I try to picture me without you, but I can’t/'Cause we could be immortals/Immortals/Just not for long, for long/And live with me forever now/Mmm, pull the blackout curtains down/Just not for long, for long

Twin Skeleton’s (Hotel In NYC): SL!Martyn and Jimmy

I just need enough of you to dull the pain/Just to get me through the night 'till we're twins again/'Til we're stripped down to our skeletons again/'Til we're saints just swimming in our sins again/And there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on/Up above our heads droning on and on and on/Keep making trouble 'til you find what you love/I need a new partner in crime and you, you shrug that

MANIA

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea: 3L!Ren

I'm 'bout to go Tonya Harding on the whole world's knee/And I'm stuck, night vision, so stuck, night vision/But I come to life, come to life/Some princes don't become kings/Even at the best of times, I'm out of my mind/You only get what you grieve

The Last Of The Real Ones: Bdubs

My head is stripped, just like a screw that's been tightened too many times/When I think of you, when I think of you/I will shield you from the waves if they find you/I will protect you, I will protect you/Just tell me, tell me, tell me I, I am the only one/Even if it's not true, even if it's not true, yeah

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T: DL+LimL!Etho and Joel

I got too high again, realized I can't not be with you/Or be just your friend, I love you to death, but I just can't/I just can't pretend, we weren't lovers first/Confidants but never friends, were we ever friends?/But when your stitch comes loose, I wanna sleep on/Every piece of fuzz and stuffing that comes out of you/You, I took too many hits off this memory/I need to come down/An-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nother day goes by/So hold me tight, hold me tight, or don't/Oh n-n-no, no, this isn't how our story ends

Wilson (Expensive Mistakes): LL!Bdubs

There's nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you (but you)/Than to be loved by everybody but you, (but you) but you/If I could get my shit together/I'm gonna run away and never see any of you again/Never see any of you again/I hope the roof flies off and we get blown out into space/I-I always make such expensive mistakes

Church: SL!Lizzie

I love the world/But I just don't love the way it makes me feel/Got a few more fake friends/And it's getting hard to know what's real/And if death is the last appointment/Then we're all just sitting in the waiting room (Mr. Stump?)/I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom

Heaven’s Gate: LimL!Skizz (right at the end)

I got dreams of my own, but I want to make yours come true/So please come through, honey please, please come through/Oh, go out in the world, start over again and again/As many times as you can

Champion: SL!Pearl

I got rage every day, on the inside/The only thing I do is sit around and kill the time/I'm trying to blow out the pilot light/I'm trying to blow out the light/I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe/But young enough not to know what to believe in/Young enough not to know what to believe/If I can live through this, if I can live through this/If I can live through this, I can do anything

Sunshine Riptide: LL!Scott

The world tried to burn all the mercy outta me/But you know I wouldn't let it/It tried to teach me the hard way, I can't forget it

Young And Menace: LimL!Martyn

We've gone way too fast for way too long/And we were never supposed to make it half this far/And I lived so much life, lived so much life/I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice

Bishops Knife Trick: Bad Boys

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate/It doesn't wanna live in a cage, a feeling that I can't housebreak/And I'm yours 'til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll/Away, I'm struggling to exist with you and without you, yeah

SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST

Love From The Other Side: SL!Etho

I'd never go, I just want to be invited, oh, got to give up/Get the feeling, get the feeling, don't fight it, fight it/Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse/And I just about snapped, don't look back/Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Heartbreak Feels So Good: 3L!Grian

Is there a word for bad miracle?/Nobody said the road was endless/Nobody said the climb was friendless/But could we please pretend this won't end?

Hold Me Like A Grudge: DL!Pearl

(You put the "fun" into dysfunction)/Hold me, hold me like a grudge/The world is always spinning, and I can't keep up, woah/Faster and faster, can't do it on my own/Part-time soulmate, full-time problem, yeah/So hold me like a grudge

Fake Out: SL!Lizzie

But I didn't take the love when I had the chance/But I swear I'm not sad anymore/So make no plans and none can be broken/No plans and none can be broken/Do you laugh about me whenever I leave?/Or do I still need more therapy?

Heaven, Iowa: 3L!Scar

And they don't know how much they’ll miss/At least until you're gone like this/Talking to the mirror, say, "Save your breath/Half your life you've been hooked on death"

So Good Right Now: DL!Bdubs

And I know, I know I've made mistakes, yeah/And I know, I know, but at least they were mine to make/They were mine to make/And all of our wildest dreams, they just end up with a-you and me/So, let's drive until the engine just gives out

The Pink Seashell: Ok, I cannot pull a lyric for this because it is the world’s most specific monologue, but the general message of it (“Life is a lottery and bad shit happens all the time, so might as well find happiness in the good things, even the small things.”) feels like it could be Skizz. Just trust me. This one is so fucking difficult.

I Am My Own Muse: LimL!Jimmy

Here I am, not sure you should take a chance/I like playin' dumb, lettin' you figure me out/But I was faded, in my own defense/So, drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about

Flu Game: SL!Joel

Last night I dreamt I still knew you/You/I carved out a place in this world for two/But it's empty without you/I got all this love I've got to keep to myself/All this effort to make it look effortless

Baby Annihilation: Scott

The first time I took the mask off, just had another one on underneath

The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years): LimL+ SL!Martyn (but mostly LimL)

Passed my old street, the house I grew up in/It breaks your heart, but four of the Ramones are dead/I felt you at the beginning, but needed you at the end/We're goin' low, low, low, low

What A Time To Be Alive: SL!Bigb

When, when, when I said, "Leave me alone", this isn't quite what I meant/I got the quarantine blues, bad news, what's left?/So, it seems the vulture's gettin' too full to fly, oh/What a time to be alive

So Much (For) Stardust: Ren

I'm in a winter mood, dreamin' of spring now/Burnin' myself down, burnin' myself down, burnin'/I feel like something that's been stretched out over and over again/Until I'm creased, and I'm about to break down the middle/Split me right down the middle, right, right down the middle, yeah

#trafficshipping #trafficblr #life series #third life smp #last life smp #double life smp #limited life smp #secret life smp #fall out boy #ok youre getting all the series tags but not all the member tags. your welcome #anyways ITS DOOOOOOOONE #i love this post. this was so fun. and also took so fucking long #please look my work. and be so niceys to me about it. thank you #save tag

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